The Girl Inside the Woman
by xXfireXflyXx
Summary: SEQUEL TO LOVERS IN A DANGEROUS TIME ; Bella wished he cared for his loss. She also wished that he didn't love her.
1. Wedding Tears

Yup (:

Because of the positive response I got, I figured it was time to FINALLY carry on with this series. Enjoy!

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Today was the day.

Bellatrix Black, the eldest daughter of the Black family, would lose her last name, and instead be known as Bellatrix Lestrange. Just as Narcissa had given up her identity in the family, Bella was about to embark on the same mission. It had been several very tiresome months since Rodolphus professed his undying adoration for her. In that time, her father had passed away - lung cancer, unfortunately - the Dark Lord had barely said three words to her, and Narcissa continued to grow fat as her child festered within her womb. It was supposed to be a girl, apparently. Lucius wasn't all that pleased, Bella could tell, but he hid it rather well.

Despite the fact that Rodolphus had promised her that they would not have the wedding at the Black Manor, their mothers had overridden them both and planned it there. It was to be spectacular, the social event of the season for the people that traveled in her circles. Not because it was Bella's wedding, no, but because Druella Black was going all out to show that she could live without a man dictating her every move, and that she was a grieving widow no more. In essence, this wedding was to be about her ability to throw a party, rather than Bella's union with Rodolphus.

The oaf had grown on her in the past few months, but she would not say that she loved him. He suited her. Every part of him matched her, and he knew how to make her scream, and when she explained that to her sister, the beautiful blond insisted that that was what a marriage was really about. Not everyone was lucky enough to be in love. But you see, Bellatrix was in love, though not necessarily with her husband-to-be.

"How do I look, Bella?" Narcissa inquired enthusiastically from her spot in front of the full-length mirror. The two were in her room, and with Narcissa acting as her maid of honour, or whatever, she was supposed to be helping the dark haired woman get dressed. However, it took her much longer to get the pale purple dress - her mother's choice, not Bella's - on over that large stomach of hers than it did for Bella to get into her dress. Her dress was simple. It had no sleeves with a relatively tight middle-section and a skirt that simply fell to the floor. Simple. Bellatrix did not want to look like some airy fairy princess.

"_Bella_," Narcissa repeated firmly, turning to face the older woman as she awkwardly tried to pin a stubborn strand of hair up into her tight bun. She glanced up, her dark eyes studying her sister for a fraction of a second, and then replied, "Fat. You look fat."

The blond woman pouted at her, then turned back to the mirror, "Gorgeous. I think you meant to say I looked gorgeous."

"Of course, Cissy," Bellatrix commented absently. "You know that's always what I mean."

No. She looked fat. Some say pregnancy makes women look their prime... Narcissa looked better when she was thin. The only actual difference that may better her appearance was the fact that her breasts were about a size larger. Lucius must have enjoyed that.

"It's almost time," Narcissa insisted, finally stepping away from the mirror to walk over to Bella, who was currently seated in front of her make-up mirror. She placed her small hands on Bella's bare shoulders, then shooed her own hands away from the stubborn pieces of hair and fixed it with strange expertise, "Are you anxious? Nervous? Excited?"

"No," Bellatrix replied honestly, watching her younger sister work, "I want it to be over with. Mother has been more of a pain than usual with this wedding."

The younger woman frowned at her, "Don't say that. Your wedding day will be one of the most memorable days of your life, Bella."

"I'm not you," the Death Eater said frankly, "I don't care about this. It's just a formality."

Narcissa clucked her tongue at her, as though chiding a young child, and continued to fuss about her hair and make-up, completely ignoring Bella's insistence that it wasn't really that important. They were shortly joined by her mother, who came barreling into the room without knocking, her breathing in a frenzy.

"Everyone we know is here," she stated briskly, stalking up behind Bellatrix and Narcissa, "so don't embarrass our family. Once Lestrange gets that ring on your finger, you can do whatever you please, since you will be his problem. Until then, you behave."

"I live to please you, mother," Bellatrix fired back sarcastically, wincing as the older woman gave her arm a sharp pinch. Narcissa rolled her eyes Heavenward, and her mother continued, "Normally I would give you some advice about how to bed your new husband, as I did for your sister, but it seems you have experience in that area already. So. There's really nothing more I need to say to you."

And with that, she left. No words of wisdom. No trinkets to wear. No tearful farewells. Not like she had done for Narcissa or Andro- the other one. Bellatrix preferred it that way, to be honest. She and her mother had stopped seeing eye to eye with each other a long time ago. Once Narcissa was finished with her hair - somehow the hair was back in the bun, miraculously enough - Bellatrix rose and slipped into her painfully high heeled shoes, and the two made their way down the stairs to where the rest of the wedding party was waiting. Some other cousins were there as flower girls and bridesmaids, while Rodolphus had his boys there. With the death of her father, there was no one in the immediate family to walk her down the aisle, and she was very shocked when Lucius volunteered to do it to her mother. Druella had too much of a soft spot for the man, and she accepted in a heartbeat. How it made sense that her brother-in-law was walking her down the aisle was beyond Bella's understanding, but she didn't object. The wedding, to be frank, meant very little to her, so she didn't see the point of making a fuss.

People were complimenting her left and right, which was what they were supposed to do on her wedding day. The ceremony was to take place in the gardens, which was where everyone else was, she assumed. The Manor was empty, aside from the house elves scuttling about to ensure that everything for the festivities afterward were in order. Her personal house elf was on specific orders to wait for her with a packet of cigarettes for when she was ready, and she grinned as she saw the creature huddling by the staircase, no doubt waiting to be called on.

Her mother was practically glowing as people commented on the wonderful decorations and elegant way the flowers had been arranged. It was July, the damn hottest July Britain had ever seen, but the guests seemed perfectly happy... She could see them chatting away noisily through the massive windows that showed off the outdoors from the entertaining hall. Someone suddenly linked arms with her and she flinched, annoyed to be taken from her dreamworld, and she glared up at Lucius, "Oh. It's you."

"Yes, it's me," he chuckled, Narcissa at his side. "Bellatrix, don't you think _white_ is a little... trying? Especially for you- Ouch! Darling, I was only kidding-"

"Be nice," Narcissa warned to both of them, then sauntered off as her mother beckoned her over; the party was lining up to make their way out. It would start soon. Bellatrix took a deep breath, wishing all this was over and she could get out of this damn dress.

"Listen," Lucius started softly. "If he hurts you, or does something-"

"What the bloody Hell are you doing, Malfoy?" she demanded pointedly, raising a thin eyebrow at him. He shrugged, "I'm about to walk you down the aisle and give you away to one of my closest friends... You're my sister, Bellatrix, and I thought I should say something."

Bellatrix blinked, utterly dumbfounded, "What?"

"I hate you like I would any sister," he went on, his free hand smoothing down the front of his rather expensive looking tailored suit, "just like I love you like a sister. You are the one that Narcissa treasures the most in this entire world, after me, of course, and I want to make sure you are well looked after."

The woman stared at him for a moment or two, then wrinkled her nose, "For Heaven's sake, stop, Malfoy. You'll make me vomit on my dress."

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" he mused, his eyes twinkling gleefully at her, though his expression gave no hint of delight. What the Hell was he on today? Did Narcissa get him drunk before all this?

"Come on, let's go," Lucius ordered finally, tugging at her arm as he pulled her toward the door. The music had started. People were standing outside, watching with mild interest as the wedding party rolled out of the entertainment hall. When the tone changed, Lucius and Bellatrix started out. She squinted as she stepped into the sunlight, her eyes roaming over the people that were sitting at the edge of each row. Some were smiling supportively; others were no doubt smiling because they had to. She ignored Rodolphus standing at the end with the wizard elder, waiting with pride to marry his bride. She, instead, looked behind her, hoping to see Him standing at the back. Maybe he would be there. Just to... Just to watch. But no. He wasn't there. She wasn't sure why she had thought he would come. It was a hope, more or less, a fleeting fancy.

Her hopes dashed, Bellatrix returned her attention to her reality up ahead. Rodolphus looked very handsome, of course. His suit was finer than her brother-in-law's, his hair was slicked back, and he had stubble that Bellatrix had often told him was very appealing on him. He probably grew it to please her that day. She smirked, though she didn't return the broad smile he was giving her. When they arrived at the end of the walk-way, Lucius gave her a small peck on the cheek, and then joined the other men behind Rodolphus. Bella took his hand and he drew her up, and the ceremony started.

It was a typical ceremony. Vows and rings were exchanged. An elderly chap with hideous nose-hair sanctioned them to be man and wife. They kissed. People clapped and hooted, some women gave an indignant huff or throat clear when Rodolphus held his new wife on the spot longer than what was expected, expressing his devotion to her in a passionate kiss. Bellatrix returned it, of course. She liked putting on a show, and she liked making her mother feel uncomfortable in her seat. Flower petals were thrown over the couple as Rodolphus led her back toward the manor, and she let out a shocked laugh as he scooped her up and officially carried her inside, attacking her lips once more in a demand for her constant attention. Again she searched for Him. He could have been waiting inside, or maybe lurking somewhere. It would be like Him to lurk. But yet again, she didn't see the man. Her Dark Lord had not come to her wedding.

Afternoon, when the ceremony took place, quickly turned to night. Dinner was served, toasts were made, and the people around her started to get progressively drunk. Narcissa and Lucius swayed with each other on the dance floor with other couples until her little sister's feet could not support her anymore, and she watched as the two sat off near the wall, Narcissa with one foot on her husband's lap with the man massaging it tenderly. They were sickening, really. Rodolphus, it seemed, couldn't wait to get the honeymoon started. A lot of the evening was spent kissing her neck, whispering suggestive sayings in her ear, and dancing with her to whatever the band played. She felt free with him, and with that ring on her finger, her mother could no longer be a bother. It was a gratifying feeling, to be honest.

When she finally tore herself away from Rodolphus, the woman went off for a cigarette outside. It was the social event of the season, remember? People weren't as interested in her doings as they were with what people were wearing. Fashion faux-pas were everywhere, darling. While her house elf had her smokes, it also had a small letter for Bella to read. The creature whispered hoarsely that it had been instructed only to give it to Bella, and she felt her heart pound giddily in her chest. He must have come. He had to have come. Maybe he had left her a letter saying... something. She knew he would never apologize to her for the harsh treatment. He would never ask her to come back to him. He would never tell her that he loved her back. But Bella knew. Deep down, she knew that those feelings were somewhere.

Snatching the letter away, Bellatrix stalked over toward a window, brushing off individuals who came to speak with her shortly. When she was perfectly alone, she ripped open the envelope, the background noise of countless conversations merely faint whispers compared to the way her heart pounded in her ears. Opening the folded piece of paper, she recognized the lettering right away. It was his! His! Her dark eyes ran over the words quickly, but as she read them, the excitement dwindled and died a violent death.

_Master and Lady Lestrange, _

_As requested, you are granted one week for your honeymoon to Asia. I shall expect you back and ready for duty by next Tuesday. _

She stared at the crisp writing, the short statement. It had nothing to do with her. It had to do with _them_. He was addressing a married couple, not his former lover. And with that, her heart shattered. Well, what was left of it, anyway. Before she could stop herself, her eyes welled with large tears. It pained her to know that she was weeping over this, but it couldn't be helped. All day she had hoped to see him. From the moment she woke up to five minutes before she got the letter, Bellatrix wanted to see him. Show him what he could have had, maybe, then tell him he could still have it. She had feelings for her husband, yes, but her love went to him. And he... He didn't care anymore, that much was true.

"Oh, look, Rodolphus darling," her mother crooned as the pair approached her. "Your bride cries with joy on her wedding day... She is simply overcome with all the happiness in the air!"

Bella looked up, a rogue tear running down her cheek, and she hastily brushed it away, crumpling the letter behind her back and stuffing it back into her house elf's hands before pushing the creature away. Rodolphus met her gaze quickly, though he was not smiling like her mother was, "Joy? Is that what it is, Bellatrix?"

She swallowed thickly, hating this weakness, and then nodded, "Of course, Rodolphus. What else would it be?"

* * *

I just wanted to say something quickly... The writing style is so brisk in this chapter because I can't see Bellatrix enjoying her wedding at all. To be honest, I don't think she's one for big parties that revolve around her, which is why the whole thing seems rushed. It's how she would want to feel... In my opinion, anyway. She was bored at Andromeda and Narcissa's weddings, so why should this be any different?

And there will be less Voldemort in this part of the series... though he isn't gone completely. He's never gone.

Bwaha.


	2. Formality

"Bellatrix, let's _go_ already, for Merlin's sake," Rodolphus hissed from the other side of her bedroom door, tapping on it once or twice. "I want to get out of this Hell house before your mother decides to hug me again!"

"She's your mother now too, Lestrange," Bellatrix commented snidely, running her hand over the black dress she had swapped her wedding dress for only moments earlier. The celebrations were coming to an end, and most of the guests had trickled out of the manor within the last hour or so. At the present time, Rodolphus and Bellatrix were supposed to bid their families one final farewell, then embark on their lovely honeymoon to Thailand.

Bellatrix had been the one to pick Thailand. Rodolphus was pushing for France or Spain, but those countries weren't quite far enough away from Britain to even be considered. She wanted somewhere hot, grungy and poor... Rodolphus settled for hot and grungy, but poor he wouldn't do, and she was annoyed to hear that he had found them a top-class hotel in the capital city for a few days, then a little villa out in the islands for the rest of the holiday. It was a compromise... Bellatrix hated to compromise.

"I don't understand why I am not allowed to come inside," he growled sourly from the hallway, a thud indicating his back was now to the door. "I'm your husband now... and it's not like I haven't seen any of that before."

"I just want two minutes to myself, all right?" she fired back, ripping out the hairpiece that held her lengthy dark hair up in that painfully tight bun. It tumbled free triumphantly, and she couldn't help but feel just a touch more relaxed. Her dress was rather thin and loose; her wedding dress had also been so tight that she was sure there were indentations all over her skin from it. The black dress tied up around her neck, with no sleeves, and simply hung loose down to her knees. It was what she felt like wearing, and whether Rodolphus approved of it or not, she would continue on wearing it.

"But, Bella..." he whined. Her eyes shot up to the door venomously, and she snarled, "You know not to call me that, Lestrange! Just... go wait for me downstairs! I'll be ready in twenty minutes!"

"But-"

"Go!"

There was a grumble muffled by the door, and she listened carefully to the sound of his shoes as he trudged off down the hallway and toward the staircase. When she was sure she was alone, Bella hastily grabbed her wand and apparated to a special place, one far away from her bedroom.

This was probably suicide. Going to the Dark Lord's personal home without any real purpose was not advised within the ranks, though it was known to happen. He liked to lecture his servants, when he wasn't terribly busy, and in the past he had been more open to them huddling around and listening to dark tales and stories. It was a strange feeling to do so. Lately, with the Ministry catching onto them and the Aurors finding more and more hidden hideouts, Voldemort was growing tense. His temper was short with failings, and he was less likely to give a Death Eater the time to simply talk, ask questions, or look for advice.

He had, lately, become obsessed with prophecies, and had been listening to the words of Seers and Diviners more than those of his inner-circle. Bellatrix wanted to reach out, help him, comfort him... There was a prophecy given as of late, that a boy born in July - this July, the July she chose to marry Rodolphus in - would lead to the downfall of her Lord and Master. Naturally it was all hogwash, and Bellatrix didn't believe it for a second, but the Dark Lord had grown... paranoid after hearing the words, and had become closed off. Not just to her, thankfully, but it felt like a personal attack when he wouldn't look at her. Wouldn't speak to her. Wouldn't touch her.

He was a decent man, one that refused to carry on an affair with a married woman. She felt as though she had wronged him by marrying Lestrange, but what other choice did she have? He wouldn't marry her, and if she did not have a wedding, one that her mother could see, she would never be free from her family. It was a lose-lose situation, if she was being brutally honest.

Slipping out of her old classroom quickly, the darkness beckoning her to linger and drag it in further to her soul, Bellatrix knew just where to find him. Her feet walked the path that they had gone many times before, up through the narrow corridors, past the gloomy paintings and into the doorway of his study. As she had expected, he was there. Even though the weather was roasting outside, he was clad in long pants and a white shirt, buttoned right to the second-last button, cuffs included. A fire crackled in the mantel, and he was standing over a table with a map of the United Kingdom spread out across it, quill in hand, and she assumed that he was marking new spots to hold their meetings. There were knots and crosses all over the large sheet of parchment, with little notes in his typical handwriting at the side. Nagini, the snake she loathed so very much, was curled on an arm chair in a tight coil, her tongue flickering out to taste the air every so often.

"You should be gone by now, Lady Lestrange," the Dark Lord said abruptly, his head still down as he leaned forward and circled a point on the map, writing something beside it in capital letters. "I granted you and your new husband a week without duty and charges... It angers me that you've decided to ignore that to come see me instead."

She tensed at his tone; it was calm. She hated it when he sounded calm; calm meant bottled up rage. It would have been better if he yelled, to be honest, because then she could fully understand just how infuriated with her he was. But no. He chose that tone of voice because he knew how well it instilled fear into his servants. The Dark Lord, as usual, knew exactly what he was doing.

"I wanted to thank you for the gracious offer you gave us," she informed him softly, stepping into the room, her bare feet quiet against the rug. "I don't understand why we deserve such kindness."

"Don't you?" he inquired, his eyes flickering up to hers momentarily, quill gripped tight in his fist, "Don't you realize why I am so giving with you, Bellatrix?"

Where had the nickname gone? Lost so long ago, it seemed. Her heartbeat picked up, and she felt her courage rise only slightly, "No, to be honest I don't."

His eyes narrowed and Nagini hissed from her spot on the chair; the tension in the room could be cut with anything. Bellatrix shifted from foot to foot, trying to hold his gaze for as long as she possibly could, but as always, she gave in first and bowed her head, "I don't mean to be insubordinate-"

"Yes you do," he snapped, causing her to flinch. "You know exactly what you are doing, Bellatrix, and I have every right to make you scream for it."

"Maybe you should... You always said you liked my scream-"

"Get out, Lestrange," he snarled, taking a step toward her. "Get out and go back to your husband. I'm sure he'll notice your absence. I don't want you to come back here... As it stands, unless you are invited, you are not welcome in my home."

"My Lord, please," she cried, falling to her knees in front of him, submissive for the only man who could make her be so. "Please... Don't banish me from here, from you-"

"You are always welcome in my presence, Bellatrix," he replied stiffly, reaching out and gently running the tips of his fingers along her wild hair, "but you are not welcome here. Not now, not ever again."

She clutched as his pants, "My Lord, please, just listen to me... You don't need to send me away! I won't be a bother-"

"And you know I won't continue this with a married woman!" he thundered. She instantly retracted her hands and scuttled away from him, her back hitting the wall quickly. Her breathing quickly as he descended upon her, wrenching his large hand into the mass of her hair and grasping it tightly. She cried out, her hands locking around his wrist before she even thought about it. As he began to haul her back toward the doorway, she quickly insisted, "You once said that through my marriage I'd have to give my body to Lestrange, which I have, and you said you'd keep my mind... My Lord, you still have my mind! You have my soul, my everything!"

He said nothing, only continued to drag her toward the door, and she released a sob when he yanked her out of his study, leaving her in a heap on the floor in the hallway. Turning on his heel, he stalked back inside and shut the door forcefully. Not ready to give up quite yet, she crawled forward, her fingertips carving out strange shapes in the wood of her barrier, "My Lord..."

Her voice cracked noisily, and she drew in a shaky breath, "Marriage is just a formality... Wife is just a title. It doesn't mean anything!"

And she waited. She waited for him to open the door and agree. She waited to hear some sort of movement inside. Pacing. Anything! But there was nothing, only the sound of the occasion quill scratching on parchment, boisterously echoing in the stillness. When nothing came, she used the wall for support as she dragged herself weakly to her feet, watching the door for another minute or so before apparating back home directly from the hallway, landing in her bathroom. It was then she took the time to clean up her appearance, ensure that her dress didn't look too ruffled, and whip the make-up trail from under her eyes. Once that was taken care of, she hastily threw a black shawl over her dress and made a dash for downstairs. She was dressed for a funeral, and Bella knew it.

Something had died that day.


	3. Ache

Bellatrix stared down the street, mesmerized by the havoc that she could create if she chose to do so. These people... How could they live like this? Bellatrix wanted grungy, and it seemed that her new husband would deliver that, in his own fashion.

Their first stop in Thailand was the capital city, in which Rodolphus had found them a relatively reclusive hotel suite catering specifically to pureblood families. Apparently there were so few of them that chose to reside in Bangkok - the location of the hotel frightened the snobs away - that the Lestranges were offered any room that they desired. Naturally, her husband would pick the largest room, apparently, but aside from that it seemed as though they would be all alone in the hotel.

The outdoors suited Bella's mood. Sex hovels were abundant, there were Muggle drug dealers around every alleyway, and the bars that eagerly catered to foreigners were ever-so-inviting. It took everything she had in her to follow Rodolphus through the crowded street, rather than slip off and enjoy a cool drink. The weather was deathly; the moment she arrived it felt as though she had been hit with a wall of sheer humidity. Rodolphus too was bothered by it, though he had chosen to wear a pair of slacks that clearly ensured that his legs wouldn't breathe in, whereas Bellatrix was now proud that her thin dress acted as a cooling source.

Her new husband hadn't said much to her since they were married. Sure, there were the constant innuendos of a horny man, but that was to be expected. They had shared a joint apparition into Bangkok at the Ministry of Magic for Thailand, and were given maps to the locations that they desired there, as well as some apparition checkpoints and hot spots to watch out for. Apparently there were some Muggles that were ready to kill anyone showing any sign of magic... They weren't as oblivious here as they were in England. Bella merely grinned at the thought; it would be nice to kill someone who knew exactly what kind of powerful force they were dealing with. Rodolphus had caught the glint in her eye at the Ministry, and a stern glance made her behave herself, momentarily anyway. The officials had no idea they were welcoming in two notorious, though unknown, Death Eaters into their country.

Rodolphus marched ahead of Bellatrix in the street, brushing off merchants who wandered out of their shop to try and sell them keepsakes, while Bellatrix followed behind, quite happy to let him lead the way, so long as he carried their pair of rather heavy bags. She really didn't need to bring all that much, but it irritated him that she packed a lot, and that was probably the only reason she did it. The woman had pushed her lengthy hair up on top of her head, and mimicked the way a local woman had used a brightly decorated stick to keep her own hair up in a bun, though Bellatrix used her wand instead. A little bulkier, yes, but at least it would be easy to pull out should they need it.

The hotel was not terribly impressive from the outside. In fact, it looked like every other rundown building that they had passed in this quarter of the capital. However, Rodolphus seemed insistent that they had arrived at the correct place, and as they marched up the narrow staircase to the upper-level, Bellatrix began to wonder whether or not he had done as she asked and found them a cheap place to stay. She wasn't quite sure why she wanted to live below the poverty line for a week with Rodolphus... Perhaps it was because she wanted to be different than Narcissa and the other women in her family. Their new husbands escorted them off to gorgeous resorts and hotels in the cities of their dreams, and wined them to bits of expensive champagnes and other liquors until they had completely forgotten themselves. Narcissa returned from her honeymoon desperately in love with Lucius, and she couldn't wait to show Bella the photographs of the expensive luxuries he treated her to while they were there. The dark-haired Death Eater wouldn't stand for that. She didn't want to be spoiled or bought; Rodolphus should have realized that by now.

"Well, this is impressive," she sniped as Rodolphus navigated the bags up the narrow stairwell, grunting when one of them got stuck for a moment or two. "I'm afraid to see where you would have taken me if I had asked for something decent."

"Shut up, Bellatrix," the man groaned, giving the bag a final shove with his knee and stumbling up the final steps. She glared at the back of his head, then followed up quickly, feeling a sudden wave of coolness overtaking her body. After pausing at the top of the staircase, her bare toes rubbing against the tile, a distinct change from the harsh stone steps, Bella noted that magic ran everywhere. The hotel was magically placed into the grungy building, and it looked every bit the expensive hostel that she had wanted to avoid every since she contemplated the honeymoon. There were ivory pillars, fountains, and hotel staff eagerly taking their luggage from her husband. She didn't want this. She wanted to feel dirty. The streets comforted her more than the entrance hall to the hotel did, which was a strange notion.

A small woman appeared at her side, tray in hand, and offered her an array of fruity looking drinks. Bellatrix raised an eyebrow at her, then felt her lip sneer upward, irritated at the brightly coloured umbrellas sticking out of the glasses. She murmured a harsh, "No." and sent the woman scuttling away from a quick bow. Her dark eyes drifted over to Rodolphus, watching with annoyance as he checked them in, smiling occasionally at the pretty Thai girl behind the desk. It didn't bother her that the girl smiled back; let her flirt. Let him flirt. Bella could have cared less. She took a few steps into the pristine wizard's resort, her scuffed feet leaving black marks on the white floor.

"I don't like this," she hissed in his ear as she closed in on her new husband, the girl in front of them hastily getting a key ready. He turned his head to the side, only a fraction of an inch, then smirked, "I didn't think you would."

"Then why are we here?"

"Because it's where we belong."

"I thought we were scum, Rodolphus."

He paused, his mouth opening for a brief second, then closing with another grin, "We are, Bellatrix. That's why I picked the district. We're only going to be here to sleep and fuck."

The receptionist cleared her throat awkwardly, no doubt embarrassed for intruding on the private conversation, and Bellatrix gazed up at him, slightly amused. So there was that damn compromise again. She still didn't like it, but she supposed that she would have to make due. Sucking in her cheeks, she fell silent beside him, and he seemed smug that his comment had subdued her complaining... for now.

In all honesty, Bellatrix was ridiculously tired. She had been woken up by her mother at eight that morning, which was early for her, to get ready for a wedding that lasted late into the wee hours of the next morning. She had been emotionally drained since the Dark Lord banished her from his home, and taking an international apparition really took a hell of a lot out of you. The only reason she was awake was because she wanted to absorb everything that Rodolphus had done for her so far, and then see where she was sleeping. As soon as she saw the bed, she'd be ready to crash in it.

Rodolphus snatched up the key as soon as it was presented to him, and Bella followed him lazily as he marched off toward a dimly lit hallway. Their room, apparently, was at the end of it. Halfway down, however, he stopped. She released an irritated grumble when she nearly walked into him, then planted her hands on her hips, "Can you please not just _stop_ while I'm walking behind you?"

"Stop being so irritable, Bellatrix," he chuckled, stepping around her and suddenly swooping down to hoist her up, bridal fashion and all. The woman squealed, much to her discontent, and tried to squirm out of his strong arms, "Rodolphus! This is barbaric! Put me down this _instant_, or I swear-"

"It is tradition for the man to carry his bride over a threshold on their wedding night," he mused contently, holding her against him, despite the fact that she was digging her lengthy nails into his skin. "Now stop struggling and just let me do it."

"No," she snapped, glancing behind them to see if anyone was watching. He jostled her around suddenly, almost as though he would drop her, then let out a sigh as she glared at him, "Bellatrix, you can let go for one night. For just one night you can be a normal woman and accept that her husband wants to dote on her."

"That's a load of bullocks," Bellatrix sneered, watching him roll his eyes as they approached the door. "You should know I'm not one for tradition. You should know, by now, what type of woman I am."

"I know perfectly well what you are," he stated, slipping the key into the lock and turning it roughly, "and that's why I married you. It's why I love you, you sadistic shrew."

She sucked in her cheeks once again, her eyes on his proud face as he carried her into their suite, shutting the door loudly behind them. He tossed the key off somewhere in the room, the only light was emitted from a pair of candles around the bed. It was a small room, smaller than she had expected, with a double bed and a dresser, and that was it. Plain. Simple. An ensuite bathroom was at the side, though she couldn't see into the darkness just yet.

He strode hastily to the bed, dumping her in it with little dignity and crawling up her body, his hands slipping under the dress to drag it up with him.

"Fuck off, Lestrange," she murmured, her body enjoying the small comfort that the rather hard mattress provided, "I'm exhausted."

"So am I," he agreed, one hand under her back to lift her body as he pushed her thin dress up and over her shoulders, then her head, "but it's our wedding night."

"So?"

"So?" he echoed, tossing the dress back into the shadows, "So that means I get to enjoy you, at least once."

"You've done that already," she argued, her small hands pushing at his shoulders. "It can wait."

"No, no it can't," he hissed. "You owe this to me."

"Do I?" she snorted, finally taking matters into her own hands as she wrapped her legs around his waist and used her full body to push him over. Straddling him quickly, she brought a hand down to his neck and pushed against him, wanting him to feel the pressure, "Why do I owe you?"

"Because..." he started, reaching up and ripping her wand free from the make-shift bun at the back of her head. Her dark hair tumbled loose around her shoulders as he unclasped the strapless bra, removing it just as quickly as he had gotten rid of her dress, "Because you weren't sobbing with joy at our wedding. You owe me this for your tears, _Bella_."

Her eyes narrowed considerably and she felt her cheeks burn at the exposed weakness, "How dare you-"

"What was it, Bella?" he inquired as he unbuckled his belt, adopting the pet name again that she hated hearing from his lips. "Were you upset _he_ wasn't there?"

Her hand tightened around his throat, and she reached down, angrily pulling off the belt in one swift motion, "Don't."

"Don't what?" he teased as she lifted her hips, giving him a moment to remove himself of some articles of clothing, "Don't bring _him_ up in the bedroom? Too many memories, my dearest, of him in a bedroom? It's all right, Bella, I know how you miss him-"

"If you value _any_ of your appendages, I would stop right now, Rodolphus!" she snarled, her hand continuing to tighten on his throat. He grasped at her lacy knickers and tore them down her thighs, sitting up suddenly to get them all the way down her legs and off. In that moment, she hated him, and the grin on his stupid lips only intensified her loathing. Before she could stop herself, she slapped him as hard as she physically could, hoping to make the grin go away, but it didn't. In that moment, it simply turned into a leer.

She hated him. Yes, she had a tolerance for the man, but little stunts like this really ate at her. He knew just how to hurt her, how to make her feel empty all over again, and for that she would never love him. She continued to push on his throat, until he rolled her over swiftly, his head buried in the nape of her neck as he thrust into her. It was painfully unexpected and she let out a sharp cry, her arm crushed between them. That was supposed to be her weapon, that hand on his throat, but in order to keep it from being smooshed into nothingness, she had to quickly remove it from the space between their bodies. Instead, it went to his back, her nails raking against the skin through his thin white shirt, hopefully hard enough to draw blood.

He bit at her neck between feverish kisses, ignoring the way she cursed him venomously, her lips close to his ear. Their breathing increased with the rhythm of his hips and she tugged sharply at his hair, once again loathing the way he could make her hate him but writhe beneath him in pleasure at the same time.

"I know you have a hunger for him, Bellatrix," he seethed, stopping suddenly when he was deeply buried in her, "I know just how much you want him."

She groaned at the halt of movement, wishing that he could just hurry the fuck up and give her the gratification she desired.

"I want you to be a man and get this over with," she forced out, her hands tightening in his hair. He propped himself up so that they could meet each other's gaze, and from there she could tell just how much he too wanted to keep going. The man tilted his hips into hers again, causing a sharp twang of pleasure to be released, and he stared at her, "But humour me, Bellatrix... Humour me, and pretend that for tonight, you could ache for me."

It would be a downright lie to say that she didn't ache for him right now. Just because she didn't love him didn't mean she couldn't enjoy him... She knew just how much he loved her. He loved her in the way that Lucius loved Narcissa, though he was just as private about it. Bellatrix was not her sister. She wouldn't return the feelings, but she could let him know that she enjoyed him. Rolling her eyes briskly, she dragged him down so that his lips met hers heatedly, and she emitted a loud moan as he finally carried on with his earlier movements. Their bodies molded together nicely, she noted as his pace quickened, his hip bones digging into her legs painfully with each thrust. Yes, nicely they fit, but not perfectly.

But maybe Bella would never have perfect. She didn't want romance. Pretty flowers. Delicate words. She wanted to be satisfied, mind body and soul, and there were two men in her life that were capable of that, though each to their own. As she contemplated her situation, she heard Rodolphus groan her name loudly, then cursing silently in her ear, dark words that she would never think to hear from him. Somehow, the darkness triggered something in her, and she sucked in a large gust of air, her own pleasure numbing her mind for a few moments.

When she refocused, Rodolphus had rolled off her and was removing his shirt. Her body was still exhausted, though she was no longer uncomfortable. The mattress almost seemed worn in under her, and she stretched lazily, something of a satisfied grin on her lips.

"You're good at pretending," Rodolphus commented suddenly, tossing his white shirt on the ground and easing himself up the bed, pushing back the thin covers as he went. Bellatrix propped herself up on her elbows, watching his movements with a cocked head, then rolled over and onto her knees, crawling after him slowly, "I... You know how I feel about you, Rodolphus."

"I cannot say I do, to be honest," he remarked thoughtfully while Bella slipped under the covers and snuggled into the pillow. "Sometimes I'm quire sure you loathe me-"

"I do."

"And sometimes I think that you fancy me a little."

There was a longer pause, "Sometimes I do."

"I suppose that's all I can look for now, isn't it?"

She was silent for a long while, simply staring at her hands as they lay bare on the side of her white pillow. Her husband sighed, and then made himself comfortable, his eyes closing as soon as his head hit the pillow. Finally, no doubt just before he slipped into dreams, she leaned in close and whispered, "You know how to make me scream, Rodolphus, in a good and bad way. Not many men can do that."

"I'll be happy with that then," he murmured back. She noted the content smile spread across his thin lips, and she settled back into her original spot, allowing for sleep to finally take her.


	4. Just a Kiss

**All right, so I think the reason this went so long without being updated was because the honeymoon left me museless and ... well, sort of at a block. And I spent ages trying to write scenes for that, but none of them worked. So, we've moved ahead to a spot that was more comfortable to write. Anyway. Hopefully I can keep this up and going again! Thanks, as always, for the continuous support I get from you guys! :))**

* * *

"Lucius, I think your wife will slaughter you if you put a dent in her new floorboards."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes dramatically from her current position in front of the bookshelf, where she was picking at all the little figurines that Narcissa had set up for the arrival of her new baby. It was about bloody time too. Her sister had continued to simply get fat over the past few months, and after Bellatrix returned from her honeymoon, the woman was quite intolerable. Although one could argue that Bella was not a patient woman, she did her best for Narcissa... but as the due date grew closer, she made whatever excuse she could to get out of the ruddy house. In fact, it seemed like lately she had spent more time at the Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire than she had at home with Rodolphus. Not that _that_ was a terrible thing, seeing as he too usually drove her mad, but he could be the lesser of the two evils, shockingly.

Things were changing in this world. It was the summer of 1980, just at the start of June, and already England was piping hot. The Ministry was on high alert for Death Eaters, and they were each growing bolder with their moves. Bellatrix assumed it was because some felt like they were untouchable with the Dark Lord being so mindful of his servants, but Bella knew the truth. He'd kill all of them in a heartbeat should they ever displease him to the point of idiocy. So far, Bella had avoided doing that. In fact, she had a feeling she was impressing him. Whenever a new assignment came up, regardless of what it was, Bella was one of the first people to volunteer her services. Naturally, there were other ambitious sods running around trying to earn his favour, but she was very sure that the Dark Lord knew perfectly well she never did anything to climb the hierarchy or fall into his good graces. She did it because it pleased him, and it pleased her to make him happy, even if it was only for a split second. It was that split second that let her see into his eyes a flicker of contentment that made her know that she was still at the top of his list when it came to his servants, and to be honest, it made her feel ridiculously smug.

Her Dark Lord, on the other hand, was also changing. She noticed it in his appearance, probably more than the others. His face was... sullen, as of late, and his skin was a slightly unhealthy pale tone with a twinge of yellow. His eyes were changing too. While they were once dark and mysterious, they now had a smattering of red in them. Frightening how one could change their appearance so much in just a few short months, but it must have had something to do with the grand scheme. Naturally, he was much more terrifying now than before with his new look, and if that was what it took to get things done and scare the shit out of people, then Bellatrix was all on board. Was it strange that she was still ridiculously attracted to him? It pained her that he didn't come out on assignments anymore. He used to at least lead group attacks, like the alpha wolf steering his pack on, but it seemed he was too preoccupied as of late, and took to delegation over participation.

Her own dark eyes flickered toward her brother-in-law as he ignored Rodolphus and continued pacing across Draco's new room. Yes, that was what they had planned to name the brat once it was born... _Draco_. A proud enough name, to be sure, but it left a strange taste in her mouth. Regardless, it wasn't her concern. She was going to be his godmother, though she was extremely put off by the man they had chosen to be his godfather. Severus Snape. Why, she had no idea. Narcissa seemed to take a fancy to him from way back in their school days, and requested it before Lucius could suggest Rodolphus, and apparently it was a "good fit". They had found out what they thought was going to be a girl was actually a boy - incompetent medi-witches - and had to rush about changing everything in the baby's new room a few weeks earlier. Everything had been changed from pink to blue, but Bella had to admit, it was tastefully done. Narcissa would see to that, no doubt.

"He's anxious," Severus stated from his seat beside the one of a kind crib they had crafted just for the boy, "so let him be anxious."

"There's nothing to be bloody anxious about!" Bellatrix snapped, rolling her eyes once again as she picked up a little plastic dragon figurine and tossed it between her hands, "I mean, his wife is finally going to look attractive again-"

"Bella-"

"And we can stop walking around on eggshells around her-"

"Bella-"

"And- Shut up Rodolphus! ... And, you'll have a new baby to scream and keep you up all night and smell horrid at any given point. Isn't that the whole point of this?"

"Glad to see your romantic notions of having a child remain intact, Bellatrix," Severus purred, his eyebrows flicking up briefly when she glared at him. Honestly, he was such a snarky pain to have around! She was going to have a serious talk with Narcissa was she had finished giving birth to this boy... Bellatrix was _not_ going to pose in pictures and act as one half of the godparent duo with Severus _Tobias_ Snape.

"It's not that," Lucius remarked quietly after a tense moment of staring between the two. Bellatrix was the first to break the eye contact, regrettably, and looked at the blond man, her eyes traveling over his dishevelled appearances. There was an odd cry of pain from the next room over, but they had almost started to ignore it. Narcissa had been in there, after all, for almost seven hours, and apparently she still had quite a way to go, according to the family midwife.

"It's just... what if she loses the baby?"

Her eyebrows furrowed, "What? What sort of stupid idea is that, Malfoy? Women from my family have always had strapping boys and the like..."

She noticed Rodolphus shoot her a look out of the former of her eye, and she planted her hands on her hips, shooting him a rather fierce glare of her own, "_What_, Rodolphus? Would you like to bring up the fact that I can't-"

"I don't want children," he said quickly, holding up both hands in a sign of an early surrender. Pleased, she stuck her nose in the air and turned her focus back to Lucius, "You have nothing to worry about."

"Andromeda lost her child."

There was a sudden silence in the room, and Bellatrix could literally feel her blood boil, "_What_?"

"Your ex-sister," Lucius snapped abruptly, flourishing his hand at her, "Narcissa still gets letters from her."

"And she _reads_ them?!"

"After she reads them she burns them without replying," he argued back, no doubt trying to defend her sister's odd act of subtle betrayal, "but she lost her second child... and apparently it was devastating. I don't want that to happen to Narcissa!"

She pursed her lips, unable to speak coherently for the moment as her mind fumed over the fact that Narcissa was still in touch with that harlot of a woman. Instead, Severus piped up again, offering his infinite wisdom to the conversation, "Lucius, I'm sure Narcissa is frightened too. Therefore, she needs you to keep being the strong part of the pair until everything sorts itself out."

"I suppose."

"It will be fine."

"Do you think?"

"_Yes_."

"Oh, why don't you girls take that somewhere else?" Bellatrix growled, tossing the little dragon in her hand back on the shelf. Her husband released a snort.

Ugh. Snape looked triumphant. He was such an annoying bastard when he looked like he had won something against her. She just wanted to pick up the baby book beside him and beat his head in with it. It was doable, you know? Bella had done it. She grinned devilishly at the memory, but tucked it away, seeing as it was neither here nor now. The woman stole a quick glance at her husband, who was currently sitting on an oversized teddy bear - literally four feet tall, white, and probably terrifying for a child - and he seemed oddly comfortable. Stupid git. She... could stand him. The sex was good, and they were a great tag team when they were out on assignments because he had an uncanny ability to properly read her without her having to say anything, but she still didn't love him. Her love went to one man, and it would probably stay with that one man for the rest of her life.

There was a rather loud shriek from the next room over, and while Bella was tempted to ask if they could place a silencing charm on the door (or something!), she restrained, only because Lucius looked haggard enough to slap her if she suggested it. She sighed, then moved across the room to stand by Rodolphus. Placing a hand on his head, she began to slide her slim fingers between his rather thick locks of hair. He seemed to enjoy it, though she only did it long enough until she could get a single strand between her fingers, and gave it a sharp tug. He flinched, and glared up at her, "Bella!"

She had given up on telling him not to call her that. It wasn't going to stop anytime soon, unfortunately.

"What?" she remarked innocently, cocking her head to the side as she gazed down at him, "Something the matter, darling?"

He gave his head a little rub, then nudged her away with his arm, "Yes. Save pulling my hair out for sex."

With a smirk, she noticed Severus looked mildly uncomfortable at the mention of sex. Or maybe it was sex between Rodolphus and Bella that made him awkward. Either way, it was nice to see that smug look go from his face. Suddenly, it seemed as though there was an eruption of commotion from the next room over. Lucius looked up from his pacing in alarm, and Bellatrix merely sighed, assuming that perhaps the baby was going to come sooner than the midwife expected. Poor Cissy. From all the stories, it seemed so painful. Although she would admit, Bella had a strange liking for pain, but this certainly wasn't her cup of tea. The horrific shouting and crying went on for another good half an hour, and by the end of it, Lucius was a complete wreck. For a split second, Bella almost pitied him.

Almost. It was still Lucius they were talking about.

Several more very long minutes passed with silence from the other room, until suddenly the door opened, and out quickly popped a rather flustered, but proud, looking midwife. She arched an eyebrow at Lucius, nodding back inside the room, which was connected via the doorway, "Your wife is rather tired, but she's given birth to a healthy boy."

"Thank Merlin," Lucius muttered, a large smile spreading across his lips as he crossed the room and hastily shook her hand before scuttling into the room. Bella sighed; he was fretting for nothing. It was Narcissa that was giving birth, and Narcissa hardly ever failed at anything that was important to her. Bella quickly sauntered across the room, pushing Severus out of the doorway so that she could get in first - obviously. Her dark eyes traveled across the room to the small bed. It was a plain room, probably one for either parent to sit and tend to the baby, should he need it. A smile graced her face when she saw the sheer and utter devotion on her sister's face as she looked down at the small bundle in her arms. Although she looked like an absolute mess - sweaty, hair stuck to her face, eyes reddened from crying - she had never seemed so dearly in love. Bella almost felt like she was stepping in on a moment that was supposed to be private between a man, wife and first-born. Lucius was kneeling next to her, carefully reaching out and stroking her hair with one hand, and gingerly touching the baby with the other.

Should she leave? She could feel Severus and Rodolphus standing nearby, both of whom were probably feeling the same emotions that she felt. Turning on her heel, she began ushering the two out until she heard, "Oh, Bella, he's just beautiful! Come see! Come and meet your nephew and godson!"

Never mind. Rodolphus arched an eyebrow as a look of excitement passed across her face, to which she hid swiftly. Ignoring his grin, Bellatrix ambled across the room, the other two men in tow, and stopped beside her sister. She placed a hand on her head affectionately, and took in the newest member of the Malfoy family. She wrinkled her nose; he was an ugly little bugger, wasn't he?

"Er, yes," she started, meeting her husband's eye as he stood behind Lucius across from her, "Narcissa, he's just... a gem."

Weren't babies supposed to be cute? This thing was all red and splotchy and wrinkly. Narcissa, however, barely seemed to notice. She simply stared down at the little thing, sniffling every so often, "He's absolutely perfect. My little Draco..."

She shot an expectant look to Rodolphus and Severus, who had still said nothing about the baby, and they both instantly prattled on about whatever would soothe her. They told her he was brilliant, just swell, handsome, going to drive all the girls crazy... You know, the usual sort. Cissy must have known that she would extract much from Bella. After all, her sister had this theory that Bellatrix would be terribly emotional due to the fact that she couldn't have children, and therefore seeing Draco would turn her into a mess on the spot.

However, Bellatrix was distracted by something else. Someone else, one could say. Her eyes were currently transfixed on the man standing silently at the back of the room. He looked so... so ordinary. He wasn't dressed in dark robes and surrounded by foul thoughts today. Bella swallowed thickly as his eyes bore back into hers, almost bored, and he continued to keep a deadpan expression. It seemed like Rodolphus was the next to notice their master's presence, and he suddenly straightened up, "My lord."

The rest followed suit, and she noticed Narcissa absently trying to fix her hair, although there was nothing that could really be done. Lucius was quick to get across the room and greet the man with a deep bow, "My lord, I didn't see you, I apologize for not welcoming you sooner-"

He was silenced with a wave of a hand, an action that made Bella's stomach knot in an excited way. There was a flicker of a smile that touched his seemingly dead lips, and the Dark Lord took further steps into the room, "Severus told me you were due today, Narcissa. I came to offer my congratulations."

"Oh," Narcissa breathed, her cheeks tinting slightly at the personal touch he offered with the use of her name, "I... Thank you, my Lord."

"May I present to you my son, Draco?" Lucius inquired, a proud gleam on his slightly pale features as he guided their master toward the bed. Narcissa sat up a little straighter, showing the baby off as Bella stepped aside, offering him more room. It was murder, having him stand so close. She could literally feel his energy radiating from his being to hers, and it was pure torture. Even in a plain brown suit, he was probably the most attractive man she had laid eyes on.

She watched him examine Draco from a distance, and he leaned in closer for a moment, making Narcissa shift uncomfortably in place. He then reached out and touched a cheek to the baby's head, causing him to stir. The corners of the man's lip twitched upward, and he looked back to Lucius, who was just swelling, "You must be proud, Lucius."

"Very," the man stated, nodding several times, "and he will be a servant to you one day, I promise."

"A bold promise to make," the Dark Lord murmured, eyeing Lucius with a scrutinizing eye, one that made nearly everyone behind a mask shrivel away, "but I will hold you to it."

"Of course."

Bellatrix bowed with the rest of them as he departed, his shoes making the only sounds in the room aside from Draco's gurgling. She couldn't stand it. She hadn't seen him in such informal settings for what seemed like months now, and the dark-haired witch wasn't about to let that slip through her fingers.

"Cissy," Bellatrix cooed, glancing at her sister, "why don't I fetch you some water?"

"Thank you, Bella, but a house elf-"

"It'll only take a moment."

She ignored the looks Rodolphus was giving her as she hastily departed from the room, her heart pounding a mile a minute. After going down a few corridors, Bella spotted him on the staircase. Speeding up, she managed to catch him before he got too far down, "You're leaving so soon?"

He came to a halt, and slowly turned back to her. Bellatrix leaned over the railing, gazing at him longingly. It was clear that her emotions were an open book to him, and she just wanted him to take the time to read them. With a sigh, he took two steps up, closing the distance between them somewhat and allowing her to get a good look at his features. He seemed... tired. There were bags under his eyes, his cheeks were sunken a hint, and his skin seemed as waxy as ever. And yet... There she was, right in front of that changing face, so desperate to have him love her as much as she loved him.

"I thought it would be rude to impose on a family moment, Lestrange."

"Bella," she whispered forcefully, her eyes gazing into his, "and Snape's doing it... I'd rather have you there than him."

A hand came up and she felt fingers fiddle with a few locks of hair. It was... brilliant. She leaned into his touch, though the moment her cheek touched his fingers he let go, drawing his hand back, yet the gaze lingered still. She couldn't help herself. Bella eased herself forward, finally closing the gap between them once and for all with a kiss. It was something that she had wanted so desperately for so long now, and even the mere contact of her lips to his - which felt different, oddly enough - was a tantalizing release. It started harmlessly enough. For a moment or so it was just touching, the sensation more than enough to last her the next lifetime. A thought passed through her mind that he would shove her away, but he didn't. He stayed, standing there as though this was something worthwhile. With that, she hesitantly reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder, sliding it up to the crook of his neck as he suddenly kissed her back, his own hand coming up to her hair.

Bella wanted to melt. Shrink away and drag him with her, and just savour the moment forever. Why couldn't they do this? Wasn't it so clear that they were meant for this? She pushed on, trying to deepen the kiss, invoke passion, until he suddenly pulled away. A small gasp of air slipped past her lips, but she remained close. He smirked for the briefest of seconds, then sighed, and as though he was a professor scolding a pupil stated, "Bella, behave yourself."

It was much softer than what she had expected. All of his past reactions had been so... volatile and harsh. This was like a breath of fresh air, at last. Shaking her head, she leaned in again, her forehead touching his, "I can't. I can't with you, and you know why."

There was a sudden pain in her chin as he forcefully clasped it and pushed her back, holding her so that she wouldn't stumble, "Enough of this, Bellatrix-"

"Please-"

"You know my rules," he continued sharply, yet there was something to his tone that she couldn't quite place, "and I will not bend them for you anymore."

"But this is nothing," she murmured somewhat awkwardly, her own hands coming up to tenderly stroke his wrist. "It's just a kiss."

"Is it?"

She shuddered, and with that he released her, turned on his heel, and continued marching down the stairs and out of sight. Her hands clutched the banister weakly, and for some time, she simply waited for him to return, because deep in her heart, she knew that he felt something for her. All she needed to be was patient.


	5. Boredom

Pooh.

You know, Bella never actually thought she would miss spending time with Narcissa. Naturally, the woman drove her absolutely insane while she was pregnant, and she was somewhat clingy to her and - shockingly! - their mother for the first week after Draco was born. However, three weeks had passed, and it was the end of June, and she no longer needed either of them. In fact, her little sister had mastered the art of taking care of an infant. To be honest, it wasn't difficult. When Bella was there, all it did was sleep, though it had to be changed an awful lot, and fed all the time... Bit of a pain really, but she had become somewhat taken with Draco. He was her nephew and godson, and with that came a certain weight of responsibility. Not that they let her do much after she accidentally knocked the baby's head against the window frame when she was leaning out. Honestly, they should have been more upset that she was leaning out an open window with the brat in her arms, not that she had knocked his head. More like a bump, really. Anyway. Narcissa had become somewhat hesitant to let her older sister hold her new son, though Bella was sure it would pass.

Within the past three weeks, Rodolphus had actually gotten a job. He had taken his rather ridiculous love for Quidditch and put it into working with some of the league's member doing... something. She wasn't particularly sure what he was doing, because she only listened to him half of the time he spoke, and usually that was when he was insulting her. All she knew was that it got him out of the house for eight hours a day, like a real job should, and Bella was stuck by herself. She didn't really have any girly friends like Narcissa did. Her sister had lots who also had children, and they'd all get together and discuss babies and domestic skills and good house elf etiquette. Well. The Lestranges had one elf, and she hid most of the time in her work. In fact, Bellatrix rarely even saw her. Not that she would look to that filthy thing for company, but it would be nice to have movement in the house. She couldn't bring herself to go see her mother - she would never be _that_ desperate - but to be honest, there was really no one else to entertain her. Death Eaters, while some were friends, liked to stay away from each other to avoid any sort of suspicion, and Bellatrix hadn't dared visit the Dark Lord's home on a whim in months.

With a sigh, Bella stared out the window of her home, watching as a couple of deer strolled out of the nearby forest. Dear Lord this was a dull place to live. She wasn't completely sure why they didn't live in Rodolphus' old flat... At least it was downtown and in the city life. She could amuse herself by snatching Muggles and tormenting them! Oh, that was an idea! Her dark eyes sparkled as she mulled it over, but she was torn from her thoughts when she faintly heard a knock at the door. Glancing over her shoulder, she wrinkled her nose at the presence of the house elf, "What?"

"A man here to see you, Missus."

Her heart skipped a few beats. What man would see her, if not the Dark Lord? Instantly she was on her feet, and she casually brushed off the deep lavender dress that hugged her curves, "Show him in."

The elf nodded as she ran a hand through her hair, though she paused as the man stepped into the room. He wasn't anyone that she recognized. In fact, he seemed a touch young for her. Tall, somewhat slim, with dark brown hair and green eyes. He almost looked like a student, maybe someone who had just graduated. Arching an eyebrow, she placed her hands on her hips, "What do you want, boy?"

He smirked, "I'm here on assignment for the Dark Lord."

Her eyes raked over him, and she took a few steps forward, glaring down her nose at him, "Oh really? Prove it."

"I shouldn't need to. If you don't want to help him, then I'll return, tell him that, and he can find someone else."

Bold brat, wasn't he? Bellatrix felt her eyes narrow at him, and she stalked toward him, "Of course I want to help, don't be stupid."

"He needs you to put this in your family safe at Gringotts."

She studied the item in his hand, and then snatched it up to get a closer look. It was a large cup of some sort, elegantly crafted, with a large 'H' on the front. There were yellow gemstones encrusted deep within, and it was clear that it was an item of importance. But how could she be sure this brat was truly working for the Dark Lord? She had never seen him before. Holding the cup close to her, she continued to stare up at him, scrutiny in her eyes, "What's your name?"

"Tom."

"Tom?" she repeated, her foot kicking out as she began to circle him, "And how long have you been in the Dark Lord's service, Tom?"

He chuckled, "For as long as I can remember."

"Oh?"

Perhaps one of his parents were older Death Eaters... They wouldn't be the first to bring their children into the regime while they were in their teens. She did know for a fact that the Dark Lord wouldn't give any of them his Mark until they were at least of age. This boy looked of age, but there was no way to see it without actually using the Dark Lord.

"I can tell you about the mark on your forearm, if you want more evidence," he remarked, his eyes darting over to him as she mused. She arched an eyebrow once more, and then sighed, "No. That won't be necessary. But you mustn't be so brazen about your assignment. Anyone could be listening from anywhere. I'm sure the Dark Lord would not be pleased if you let any secrets slip because you were too incompetent to keep your mouth shut."

"I promise to behave in the future."

"Don't be flippant with me," she snarled, calling for her house elf and ordering it to fetch the black traveling cloak. "Now tell me about this. What does the Dark Lord wish for me to do?"

"We are to deliver this to your vault and ensure that it is... safe."

"Very well. Did the Dark Lord say why he wanted you to bring this to me? Couldn't he just come here himself?"

"You question his actions?"

The sharpness of his tone threw her for a moment, and she slipped into her cloak, "Of course not! I was merely hoping he would come tell me personally."

"You think yourself high in his favour."

"Above all others," she remarked snootily, tucking the cup safely in her cloak as she pulled out her wand. Within a moment, the two were standing in Diagon Alley, the summer breeze engulfing them instantly. Pocketing her wand, she marched up the pearly white stairs of the bank, Tom close behind. She ignored the two men who held open the doors for her, and the sound of her heels clacking echoed noisily through the bank's main lobby.

"Madame Lestrange," a goblin greeted, suddenly appearing at her side. Merlin, they were quite a sight. Bella would like nothing more than to pick them up by the ears and hurl them across the hall. However, she had to constantly remind herself that she was in the general public now, and she could not appear as anything more than a civilian. Her identity of a Death Eater had managed to stay hidden for now, and she intended to keep it that way for as long as possible.

"I wish to deposit something in the Lestrange family vault," she stated, retrieving the cup and holding it out for a quick examination. The creature nodded after turning it over in its hands a few times, and she tapped the toe of her shoe impatiently. Tom was silent behind her, simply watching. As he should be, now that he knew the Dark Lord held her at such a position. Honestly, who did he think he was, coming in and giving her all that snotty attitude? Someone needed to put him in his place. Now. Perhaps Bella would request if she could be the one to do it.

When the cup was finally handed back to her, she let out an irritated sigh, sounding bored with the whole situation, and followed the creature to sign a few routine papers about depositing items into the vault. She hadn't gotten her key - stupidly - but for such an 'esteemed customer', they were always willing to let her use the spare that was held on file. Within a good fifteen minutes, she and Tom were seated next to each other, uncomfortably close, on a little cart that was taking them to the depths of the bank. The boy sitting next to her still hadn't really said much, but that suited her just fine. She was on a quick assignment for the Dark Lord, one that would please him, and she didn't need to be hassled or force conversation with the man's messenger boy. The cart came to an abrupt halt, causing its occupants to jolt forward a touch. She glared at the driver, and then scrambled out. Her heels once again echoed as she moved across the cement floor, though she could hear Tom following in pursuit. Thrusting the key into the appropriate hole, she glanced over her shoulder to ensure he wasn't gawking, then performed a number of odd little necessary tasks in order to get the vault to open, along with three turns of the key.

As the large door swung open, she smirked at the contents inside. There were countless treasures that she and her husband had stolen from people they had... disposed of along the way over the past year or so. It was fun, collecting things from them. They weren't necessarily worth a great deal, but it was always a fun little reminder. As carefully as she could, Bellatrix set the cup down deep in the vault, assuring herself that it would be relatively safe here. When she turned around, however, she ended up walking smack into Tom's figure.

"What the Hell are you doing?" she snapped, glaring at the boy. Her hand darted down for her wand, but Tom grasped it suddenly, then pulled her out of the way, his own wand out and trained at the cup. Her eyes widened, and for a moment she thought he was going to somehow destroy it, then blame it on Bella.

Paranoia was an irritating thing.

"No!" she hissed, trying to lash out at his hand and drag his wand down. She was, however, unsuccessful, and he gave her a shove back, sending her stumbling into a pile of linens and expensive rugs. She landed in a heap, and when she looked back up heatedly, she saw him soundlessly casting some spells on the cup, "What are you _doing_?!"

Didn't he realize that one shouldn't tamper with the Dark Lord's objects?! Did that not make sense to anyone but herself? She struggled to her feet, "How dare you-"

"Quiet, Bella," he snapped. The woman frowned; why did that seem familiar? She watched as he moved toward the cup, then hunched over it, studying it only for a moment before stepping away, "It needs to be charmed, Bella, so that no one else will ever touch it. You yourself must not, under any circumstances, touch it. Do I make myself clear?"

Her mouth opened and closed several times, stunned, and she inched closer to him, "Who are you?"

He straightened up and ran a hand over his cotton t-shirt, "Bella... I cannot simply walk around Diagon in my normal manner. A disguise _is_ necessary."

Stunned, Bella leaned back against one of the rolled rugs, "My Lord?"

"Your loyalty to me is unwavering," he sighed, turning to study her as he tucked his wand in his pocket, "and I must impose on you the importance of keeping this cup safe for as long as you live."

Although she still couldn't believe it, she could suddenly see it in his eyes. They were somewhat similar to how his eyes had been before, and he called her by her pet name... She swallowed thickly, "Of course, my Lord. It will remain here, untouched."

"Good."

Her eyes followed him as he started to retreat out of the vault, but she couldn't let her curiosity slide any longer, "What is it, if I may ask?"

"Helga Hufflepuff's cup," he replied, giving the object one final glance before returning his gaze to her, "and it will keep me alive forever."

"Really?" she whispered excitedly, hopping over a trunk so that she could stand closer to him, "How does that work?"

"Now, Bella," he chuckled, patting her cheek delicately, "I can't tell you all my secrets."

He reached down and wrapped his hand around her wrist, and began to lead her out. She followed in somewhat of a daze, simply adoring the close contact, even if he no longer looked how he looked at the present. His current guise was still mildly attractive, and now that she knew it was him, she could instantly see his inner persona beneath the exterior.

"Why didn't you just tell me it was you?" she murmured as they stepped out of the vault, his hand still wrapped firmly around her slim wrist. With something of an amused twinkle in his eye, he glimpsed back at her as a goblin began closing the vault door, "Now, what fun would that have been? I have to keep you on your toes, Bella."

The thud of her beating heart no doubt matched the loud 'clang' of the vault door officially swinging shut and locking down. Merlin, he was brilliant. Although she disliked what he turned her into - a weak and goo-goo eyed little girl - she couldn't deny he had brightened up her day of boredom considerably. If only he would do it more often...


	6. Wolf

"I don't even understand why the Dark Lord wishes to be associated with him, frankly."

There were some murmurs of agreement among the four males, though Bellatrix remained silent. She wasn't about to make her discontentment with the Dark Lord's actions public, because at any given point they will come back to haunt you. However, she was slightly confused with her master's plan of action with this one.

That evening, in late August, she lay hidden in an alley with four other Death Eaters; Rodolphus, Severus, Lucius and a seedy man named Yaxley. They were on assignment in a Muggle neighbourhood. It was a relatively quiet place, one with a small town jail that could probably house about six or seven inmates at a time. They had scoped it out a few days earlier, at the request of the Dark Lord, and tonight they were launching a plan of attack to rescue one of the prisoners. Now, this wasn't just some ordinary wizard they were rescuing from Muggle Hell. No, this was a creature, one that made Bellatrix twitch and grumble about. There was no need for their existence, werewolves, and yet somehow the magical community had allowed them to breed on and survive. They should have just pumped them full of silver when the first couple appeared in normal society and been done with it. This fellow was special though. He had a name for himself; Fenrir Greyback. According to what she had seen in the Prophet and heard through whispered rumours, he was a lanky beast of a man, the age of which no one could place, nor the blood type. He had a strong group of followers, his pack, and he was a menace.

Stupid oaf had gotten himself completely sloshed in a Muggle neighbourhood a few nights ago, and was stuck in prison for a week until someone could manage enough money to bail him out. Idiot. The Dark Lord had sent another group of Death Eaters to wrangle up his followers while the man was locked up, and while Bella was pretty sure they hadn't captured all of them, they had gotten enough to get a full understanding of the wolves. They wanted power, and the freedom to raise terror in the streets... much like Bellatrix and her companions, but they were wanted men. The Dark Lord was willing to offer them protection, so long as they did all their dirty deeds under his name. Most claimed they wouldn't agree to anything until Fenrir had made a decision on the matter, and so there she was, about to drag the man out of prison.

She wasn't particularly sure as to why she always ended up with Lucius and Severus on assignments. After all, she had tried on numerous occasions to separate herself from them by outperforming them whenever the opportunity arose, and yet somehow their names were always called together. It was like she had been put into a clique within the ranks, and it was going to be exceptionally difficult to try and break out of it. None of the boys had much of an issue with it, aside from Rodolphus, who didn't really take to Snape as well as Lucius had, but somehow they all got along reasonably well. It was Bella who usually stirred up the drama. However, her drama never went unnoticed, and she was pleased that many of the men within the ranks were, well, frightened of her. They knew she was in the Dark Lord's favour, and should she tattle on any of them, they would soon find themselves on the harsh end of his wand.

That was what she liked to think, anyway. It hadn't actually happened yet, but she was sure that should something ever bother her so greatly that she couldn't deal with it herself, and a visit with Voldemort was needed, her dark master would willingly oblige an ear to listen. He took her opinion seriously, after all, in all manner of things! However, that sort of left her confused as to why she was sitting in a dingy alley, in a Muggle village, in the warm August night, waiting to drag some wolf back to headquarters. Perhaps he didn't want to openly show that he was favouring her. Oh, who knows? He could be so peculiar sometimes, and while she adored ever ounce of his being, he was hot and cold when it came to their affair. Yes, their _affair_. It sounded absolutely scandalous when one used that sort of wording, but she couldn't think of anything else to call it. He was slowly becoming more open to seeing her privately again, though most of the time was spent discussing neutral things, with an occasional touch here and there. The man become rather irritated when she tried to take things farther, but she couldn't help herself! In the end, she would still return home to Rodolphus, who would drag her to bed, like any husband should. Was her husband aware that she went to see the Dark Lord whenever she could while he was at work? Most assuredly. In fact, he would often torment her about it simply to enrage her, seeing as he knew just as well as she did that the Dark Lord was too busy for Bellatrix most of the time, and it would always leave her in heartbreak.

But enough of that. Her dark eyes studied the gloves that covered her hands, and the hands of her fellow Death Eaters. The palms and inner finger tips were laced with silver, for effectively handling of Fenrir once they broke him out of prison. There was a general assumption that the pack leader wouldn't come quietly, and therefore they were given full permission to use force. While a wand was as effective a weapon as any, they wanted to weaken the creature quickly before he made a scene, and bring him back to the Dark Lord weakened still so that he could be properly... persuaded to work under his command. Bella couldn't see why anyone would turn the Dark Lord down, but it had happened before. Some people could be so stubborn!

"I can see why he wants Greyback," Severus interjected softly before Lucius could respond to Yaxley. "He is, after all, a powerful magical being, whether you choose to accept it or not. A lot could be done for our cause should we have Greyback on our side."

"Don't be ignorant, Severus," Lucius snorted, rolling his eyes. "Fenrir Greyback simply needs to be put down. Perhaps the Dark Lord will do it under the guise that he is there to acquire his services."

"We would have been given permission to kill, not weaken if that was the case," Rodolphus remarked, his hand absently drawing shapes on Bella's back, "Snape's right. He needs someone that frightens the wizarding community as a whole, someone who isn't a mere human."

Merlin, she hated it when he sounded brilliant. Sometimes it was such a bother to compliment Rodolphus, because he always became an arrogant prick whenever Bellatrix paid him the slightest attention in that department. Perhaps it was because she so rarely did it, though he no doubt deserved it more often. He was cleverer than most gave him credit for. It was a silent intelligence, for the most part. She leaned back into his hand, halting his ministrations by squishing it between her body and the wall. Shooting him a coy grin, she glanced at his wristwatch, deciphering between the six hands that were almost completely not related to the time at all, and finally came to the conclusion that it was two minutes to midnight. Gathering her black cloak, which was currently resting beside her on the ground, the woman rose and flung it around her shoulders, "Let's move."

None of them needed to be told twice. They rose from their seated positions on the shadows, quick to dawn the robes just as Bella had. Masks were unnecessary that evening, seeing as the only ones that could potentially see their faces were Muggles, and the Ministry could come round and deal with their memory issues when the incident was reported. And it would surely be reported. And the Dark Lord's correspondent in the Daily Prophet would be sure to put a nice juicy article out about how the magical world's most dangerous werewolf was back out and on the loose. Oh, it would be brilliant! Everything would fall into place, just as the Dark Lord desired... There would be panic.

The group moved soundless from the alley into the empty street, fanning out around the outer rim of the prison. More like a holding facility than anything. The cells were kept along the back wall, and from previous scouting, they had discovered Fenrir's was the very last cell, at a corner. In unison, the Death Eaters raised their wands, and gave the Muggle wall a vigorous round of "Bombardo!" and other sets of spells that would damage the exterior. As they were blasting away, Bella could only hope that Fenrir wasn't getting pounded with rock as the wall exploded everywhere, and when the dust finally settled, they were rather pleased to spot a figure crouched at the far end of the cell, his hands flung over his head to protect his face. It was a shoddy cell, really. Small. A bed lay discarded several feet out onto the street, and now that she really thought about it, it was a marvel that Greyback wasn't along with it. Once they were sure it was time to move in, the five closed in on the huddled werewolf in a heartbeat, with Lucius and Rodolphus grasping his bare arms with their gloved hands sharply. The man let out a wounded shout, trying to bat them off, but it was clear that the silver fragments in their gloves were already draining him of his strength, and he was soon able to be lifted.

"Fenrir Greyback," Bellatrix started confidently, her eyes roaming the startled, but angry, looking man, "you have an appointment with the Dark Lord, and I don't think he'll like to be kept waiting."

"G-Get off me," he grunted, struggling vainly as he was hauled closer to the other three Death Eaters, "I said I'd consider his offer. I'm not ready to settle."

"Well, he is," Severus said curtly before Bella could, earning him a rather snide look from her. Lucius and Rodolphus began dragging him from the rubble just as they heard the Muggle police rallying their forces from the other side of the building. Fenrir groaned noisily about the silver, and softly begged for them to stop touching him. As if that was going to happen. Although he was wandless, he could still overpower them in brute strength alone, and they weren't about to lose him. Bellatrix stalked forward, her eyes boring down into his as he grinned momentarily, and she stuffed her hand over his mouth, eliciting a muffled cry from beneath the glove. Smirking, the remaining Death Eaters gathered in closely, and with a loud 'crack', they vanished from the scene.

When they had stopped traveling, the group found themselves in a large hall in the lower levels of headquarters. The Dark Lord had turned much of his original home in Dover into the new base for the group, and he had relocated to a private location elsewhere. For the most part, Bellatrix came here, and it pained her that she didn't know where this other house of his was. The hall they were in now was rather bland. It was made entirely out of a pale cobblestone, walls to ceiling and floor, and there was nothing in it but a lone chair, on which the Dark Lord was currently resting. He looked so... elegant. Like a king waiting for the return of his loyal subjects, yet he presented an air that indicated he hardly cared about them one bit, loyal or not. He simply wanted to see results. Perhaps that was one of the many things that Bellatrix had come to adore about him. The man had a way of making them work extra hard for his favour, simply because they never felt like he cared enough. It was ingenious, just like him.

When Bella removed her hand from Greyback's face, she noticed with some satisfaction that there was a rather large red handprint burned into it. Smirking, she stepped back and joined the semi-circle around him with her fellow Death Eaters. The Dark Lord leaned forward, clucking his tongue, "My, my, Greyback... What have my cruel little friends done to you?"

"Exactly what you wanted them to do, I'm assuming," the wolf croaked, gingerly touching his face with a wince, "but I'll tell you the same as I told them... I'm not ready to settle on your offer yet."

"Ah, but you see, I've managed to persuade half of your pack that it would be ideal to join me," the wizard cooed, rising from his chair and slowly making his way toward him. Bella gripped her wand, just in case something should happen. The Dark Lord gently ran his hand over Greyback's ratty hair, then sighed, "I'm offering you an unlimited reign of chaos, Greyback."

"I have that already."

"But, you do not have the protection of a secret society that will ensure you do not end up in Azkaban, do you?"

There was a pause, in which the halfbreed creature looked almost pensive. He cleared his throat, "What do you get out of this deal?"

"Oh, the odd service here and there," the Dark Lord chuckled as he clasped his hands together. "Nothing you wouldn't enjoy. Kidnapping, killing, maiming, intimidating... In fact, I think you'd enjoy the hunts I put you on."

"Will I be branded, like the rest of these cattle?"

Bellatrix, like her comrades, shifted irritably, her eyes narrowing upon him. A cow, was she? Wait until she had a moment alone with him! She would give him a few marks, ones that wouldn't go away for some time, and he'd howl like the dog he truly is! Her nostrils flared angrily at the thought of the name, but she felt her cheeks growing hot when she noticed that the Dark Lord was watching her closely, a knowing smirk on his lips. It was ghostly, of course, and to anyone else he would appear bored. But to her, she could tell right away that her temper, as controlled as she thought it to be, still kept him mildly entertained.

"I do not give my mark away to just anyone," he replied softly, his blood-shot eyes raking across his five followers. "It must be earned."

"Well I don't want it."

"You will, in time," the Dark Lord mused, turning on his heel to face the man crumpled on the ground before him. "Greyback, you have a minute to consider and agree to my offer."

"And if I don't?"

The Dark Lord grinned, "Well, we'll leave you down here to consider it for a... longer period of time. Perhaps a week, maybe two. Does that seem more appealing?"

"But my Lord," Bella intruded, her face playful as she feigned disbelief, "he'll be dead if we leave him here for a week!"

"Ah, my Bella, that is exactly the point," he purred back, his eyes continuously trained on Greyback, "and he'll leave his pack without an Alpha. Shame. Perhaps I'll just take over, once they join me at your imminent death-"

"All right!"

Bella met her husband's eye across the circle, and they shared a triumphant gleam. The Dark Lord always got what he wanted in the end. He had been pursuing Greyback for months now, and after chipping away at that disgusting exterior piece by piece, he had finally managed to break him. As Bella had guessed, it would only be a matter of time. There were countless people, shockingly, who would not willingly join the Dark Lord. Some were in the Ministry, some were wealthy purebloods like themselves. But you see, all it took was a little persuasion!

"You have no idea how much it pleases me to hear you submit, Greyback," the Dark Lord stated, his tone of voice changing from one that could be considered pleased to one that was harsh and distant, "and you will learn, now, what it is like to be loyal to me."

With a wave of his hand, he beckoned his Death Eaters to follow him, which all five did obediently. The man dragged loose a small package from his pocket, the Portkey that would get them out of the room and back to his personal office upstairs. He held it out as the Death Eaters closed in, Bella working her way so that she was directly pressed against his side. She could have sworn she saw Rodolphus role his eyes, but she pointedly ignored it as she hungrily eyed the Portkey.

"When you are good and hungry, I shall send you on a hunt, Wolf."

"But-"

"Until then, stay here and enjoy the accomadations," the Dark Lord chuckled, his free hand wrapping sneakily around Bella's waist as the group all reached out to touch the Portkey, "and learn what is considered appropriate when you address me. Next time, I shall hope for some manners."

In a flash, they vanished, leaving the lone wolf in a heap on the chilly floor.


	7. Sting

Bellatrix released a low growl as she narrowly avoided being snagged by a hex. A jet of red light flew past her shoulder, and she suddenly felt a tug at her cloak. Although she would have rather held her own on the battlefield, she also knew that they were outnumbered. Her dark eyes met the other ones behind the mask, and she wrestled herself free, ducking down once again as a spell zinged over her head.

"We need to leave," Snape remarked, crouching down behind the stone hedge that they were currently hiding behind, "otherwise they'll have us."

"It's not like they're the _Ministry_, Snape," Bella snapped, readjusting her cloak as she too crouched nearby. "We can take them!"

"I'd rather live, Bellatrix," he fired back, and a moment later he vanished with a loud 'crack'. Disgusted, she gathered herself together, ensured nothing had been hit or damaged in the scuffle, and then studied the area. There were Death Eaters fleeing the scene everywhere she looked with wizards in hot pursuit. This had turned into such a waste, and the Dark Lord was going to have someone's head over it.

Bellatrix, and several others within the upper ranks, had been assigned a recruiting mission once more. There was a powerful Ancient Runes expert that had become somewhat of a recluse after leaving the Ministry earlier in the year, and had taken to hiding out on a farm in northern Scotland. The Dark Lord had been looking for someone like him for some time now, and short of taking the current professor for the subject out of Hogwarts, he seemed like the best way to go. The mission would be simple, much like it had been with Fenrir. They would go to the farm, remove the man, then bring him back to the Dark Lord so he could make further propositions for the man's servitude. He, like Fenrir, had turned down the Dark Lord twice already, and Bella had a sinking suspicion that his move to this remote sheep-infested hellhole had a lot to do with the fact that many of the men in the lower ranks had taken to harassing him in his home in London. So, that September evening, a group of them left the comforts of home to venture up north for the retrieval. Rodolphus was exempt, as he was developing strange back problems as of late, which Bellatrix teased him for relentlessly. Snape had been in the group, along with Lucius, though at the given moment she was unsure as to where her brother-in-law was.

Everything had started off perfectly fine. There were no protection spells around the property to keep the Death Eaters out, and their arrival was smooth and supposedly unnoticed. Then, out of nowhere, they were ambushed. They had come in a group of around ten, the Death Eaters, simply because of the man's rumoured brilliance, and they wanted all hands on deck. The Order of the bloody _Phoenix_ came with at least twenty people, all of whom were bent on making sure that Bella's target stayed safe within his home. They were outnumbered two to one, and it didn't help that a few fled at the first slew of spells from the seemingly empty field. That left fewer to fight amid the massive bales of hay on the evening late in September, an evening with harsh wind and a sky threatening to pour at any given moment.

The Order of the Phoenix seemed harmless when they first came into existence. In fact, the only way she really knew about them was from rumours. However, over the past year, they had been popping up more frequently than anyone would like to admit, and their only real mission was to ensure that the Dark Lord failed. And for that, Bellatrix hated every single one of them, and should the opportunity arise, she would hardly see anything wrong with killing them on the spot. However, much like the Death Eater's themselves, the Order members were very good at keeping their identities a secret, as well as their headquarters, which made them difficult to track. The Dark Lord had already assigned a specific group that was on that issue, so Bellatrix did her best to ignore them.

Tonight, unfortunately, they were making it bloody well impossible. Bellatrix hated turning her back on a mission, and she absolutely loathed the idea of failing the Dark Lord, but it seemed like there was nothing further she could do. It had been confirmed by a fleeing comrade that the house was protected by Runes in the windows and around the doors, old ones with powerful magic, magic none of them were knowledgeable enough to really understand. That meant apparating directly into the house could have been fatal, and who knew how many more Order members were in there lurking? As she eased herself up, she hurled a string of hexes out into the oblivion, hoping that she might have hit her attacker without actually being able to see them. When no further spells were launched her way, she gingerly poked her head up, the mask hiding her identity knocking against the stone hedge slightly. Nothing. Her former attacker was either down in the grass - which she didn't see - or they had made a run for it, like her 'faithful' Death Eaters were doing.

Frowning, she studied the emptying field on the other side of the stone hedge for a second time, trying to pick out where that sod had gone. Honestly, unless they had vanished into thin air - plausible - they had to be somewhere around here. Her eyes narrowed, completely focused on finding her target, until suddenly a face popped up directly in front of her, accompanied by a man's shout. She released a surprised shriek and tumbled back in shock, landing roughly on her back. A hiss of pain slipped from her lips as a pair of pointed rocks dug into her, though before she could get to her feet, the man had vaulted over the wall and somehow managed to clamp his legs around her waist, sitting victoriously atop her as though he had just won some sort of wrestling match. She groaned, fumbling to get a good grip on her wand, but he managed to knock it out of her hand before she could end his miserable life.

"And behind mask number one..." he chuckled, in a voice that somehow seemed familiar, as he reached forward and dragged loose her mask. A shocked puff of air slipped from his lips, "Bellatrix?"

"Sirius?!" she snarled, finally eyeing the family outcast from beneath that matted brown hair atop his head, "Get off of me!"

"No can do, cousin," he sighed, "I-"

"Don't you dare call me that!" she shouted, her voice indignant as she glared at him murderously, "You filthy bloodtraitor! Abandoner! You-"

"Spare me, Bellatrix, I've heard it all before," he mused, leaning back to keep her swiping nails at bay as she tried desperately to scratch at his eyes. "Now, I'm sure the Ministry would _love_ it if we handed in wealthy socialite Bellatrix Lestrange-"

"Socialite?" Bellatrix snorted darkly, her actions halting for a moment, "What world do you live in, Traitor?"

"Clearly not the same as you," he replied in an equally morbid tone, "and I'm damn happy to be free of it."

She rolled her eyes, visibly disgusted to even be touching him, but before she could retort with the witty comment that was on the tip of her tongue, a spell whizzed right past the man's ear, and he quickly tumbled off her, turning back to return fire.

"Back to base!" the Death Eater, who she recognized as Lucius, shouted, "It's done."

Rolling over, she hastily grasped her wand and mask, and a heartbeat later she left that miserable scene with a loud 'crack', one that no doubt echoed across the field. When her world stopped spinning, she was laying on her stomach on the floor of the Dark Lord's office, surrounded by several others. Some looked as though they too had just arrived - Lucius was dragging his mask off to her right - while there were others who had cowered back against the farthest wall, and she assumed they had been there since the moment the Order broke up their attack. She quickly rolled over and got to her feet, her eyes only meeting the Dark Lord's once before becoming permanently glued to the carpeted floor. He was angry. No wonder they were all cowering.

"This was the last of us, my Lord," Lucius stated in a soft tone. "The Order must have known we were coming."

"And none of you thought to stay and fight?"

"We tried, my Lord, but we were outnumbered after _several_ among us decided to flee at the first opportunity," Bellatrix interjected before Lucius could respond, her eyes still cast down respectfully. "They want to turn in whoever they capture to the Ministry."

"And you know this how?"

"The one that got me in the end told me," she answered honestly, though somewhat irritably. The Dark Lord's jaw was clenched when she glanced up at him, and he demanded to know the name. Without hesitation, she informed him that it was her estranged cousin, Sirius Black, and she hoped that his name would be blacklisted, if he wasn't already. When she had finished speaking, an uncomfortable silence settled within the small room, and it was as though they were all waiting for him to do something. Punish them. Yes, that was what they were waiting for. However, nothing came. Instead, he calmly informed them to get out, unless they wished to stay for some sort of punishment, which he would more than willingly give.

It was probably worse that he was so calm about this, because it meant that any tiny thing would officially make him boil over. He was dangerous when he was like this, and Bella figured she knew it better than anyone. And yet, she stayed. She remained silently as the rest filed out of the room, and she pointedly ignored Lucius' tug on her cloak for her to get moving. Instead, she waited until everyone had left, silently hoping that he wouldn't turn her away. Her hopes, however, seemed to be in vain, and she actually flinched when she caught the look in his eye as he turned around.

"Are you staying here to be punished, Bella?" he demanded quietly, his hands clenched into fists, "Or do you wish to further explain your _incompetence_ to me?"

"I... I..." she stammered, trying to find her wording after his words began to sting, "No, it's just, you're angry, and I wanted-"

"Wanted to soothe me, did you?" he sneered, shaking his head at her, "Go home, Bellatrix. I have neither the time nor patience to deal with you tonight."

She felt the colour drain from her cheeks at the sharpness of his tone, one that was clearly intent on hurting her, and she decided that there was no use in trying to reason with him. Sometimes she could talk him into things, yet she also knew that should she wish to continue what they had right now, she would have to give him space, and in the end keep him happy. So, with a curt bow, she vanished from the room within seconds of his dismissal, and found herself in the main entrance of her country home.

With his words still biting at her, she angrily shoved her cloak in the closet and began to make her way up to her bedroom. Honestly, what idiots ran away from a fight?! It was their fault they had to pull out of the mission, and it was _their_ fault that the Dark Lord was now cross with her! She could wring their necks at the given moment! It was a shame that they had their faces covered, since she wasn't completely sure as to who the cowards were among the fray. The only one she knew that stayed behind was Lucius, along with a few others that were masked. It was a shame that they all had to suffer because of a few spineless twats. Perhaps if they had all stayed and fought longer, and maybe some back with the man's finger or something... Oh, who knows. The Dark Lord's temper was shorter than ever these days, especially with the rise of the Order, and it was very difficult some evenings to get him to talk about anything at all.

Her heels clacked noisily on the tile floor down the corridor to the master bedroom, and she angrily ripped her hair out of its bun and let the frizzy curls bounce loose around her face. All she needed now was some good sex, sex where she could almost beat Rodolphus to a pulp (in her mind she did, anyway) and he would just take it. He was very perceptive when she wanted sex like that, and by the look on her face, it would take a moron to not understand what sort of mood she was in that evening. She could honestly care less about his back problems... They were having angry sex, even if she had to force him. In the end, she always felt at least a touch better.

Pushing open the double doors, she stalked in, only to come to an abrupt halt. Rodolphus was already in bed. With someone else. Her nostrils flared angrily as they both froze with her sudden appearance. The girl in question was young, some petite brunette with mousy hair and doe eyes. It was sickening. Even more sickening than the fact that he was fucking some other girl in _her_ bed! Livid, she felt her breathing pick up, "Who the _fuck_ is this?!"

"This is Maeve," Rodolphus replied smoothly, his own breathing heavy, though for a completely different reason. "We work together."

Her slightly crazed eyes darted down to the girl that he was hovering over, and the young thing swallowed thickly, looking more frightened than anything. How could he seem so casual about this?! Furious, she drew out her wand and pointed it toward them, "Get that _whore_ out of _my_ bed, _now_, Rodolphus, or it will be the end of both of you!"

Her shriek echoed shrilly within the large room, and before he could say anything else, she stomped out, her heels clacking louder than ever. How could he do this to her?! He supposedly loved her, and yet he brought underage little interns back to bed with him?! This was why he was so happy to go to work, she surmised as she marched down the hall.

"Where the Hell are you going?" she heard him call as he too stalked out of the bedroom, tying his house robe around his waist furiously, "You have no bloody right to be angry, Bellatrix!"

"I have no right?!" she echoed manically, turning on her heel sharply to face him, "You brought in some teenager to defile on my bedsheets! How can I not be furious with you?!"

"So you can have your little affair, but when you figure out mine, you're livid?!" he demanded, reaching out and grasping her arm tightly as she went to stalk off, "You see?! This, right here, is you being a bloody hypocrite!"

Her eyes flashed dangerously as she shoved him off, "Don't even go there. Don't you _dare_ even compare your little romp with the teenager to my ..."

"Your what?" he demanded, following her closely as they moved down the corridor, "You see, you can't even bring yourself to say it, because you know it's the exact same thing!"

He couldn't compare them. Her connection with the Dark Lord was deep and profound, and he honestly made her feel like a whole person. Rodolphus could, in no way, be satisfied on the levels that she was with that little tart that he was fucking. His was pure sex, hers was something much greater. Enraged tears sprung to her eyes, and she carried on away in silence, until she finally felt him grab her arm again near the top of the stairs, "Talk to me, Bellatrix!"

"No!" she snarled, her cheeks red, "No! You... I would never do anything in this house with him! I would never do something like that. You crossed a line."

"I crossed a line?! How about when I see you mooning over him at meetings? Or waiting afterward to speak with him privately? As if I don't know what happens there!"

"We don't shag, if that's what you want to know," she cried, emotion plain on her face. "We talk. He listens to me, appreciates me-"

"Does he love you like I do?!"

"Well he wouldn't flaunt some teenager in my bed, would he?!" she snapped, "He wouldn't do that just to find a way to hurt me."

"It's to make you see, Bella," he stated, his voice wavering. "Can't you see how much it kills me? How you feel now, in this moment, is how I feel all the time!"

"Don't try to make it out like this is some lesson, you prat," she snarled, her voice rising with the angry shield she was used to using with Rodolphus, "because it's pathetic. You're pathetic, and you can find yourself a comfortable spot on the couch somewhere, because you aren't getting back into my bed!"

"It's my bed too, Bellatrix-"

"Not anymore! Now let go of me-"

"No-"

"Rodolphus, let go!"

She twisted furiously, freeing herself from him, only to have the heel of her shoe slip off the ledge of the top stair. Before either of them knew what was happening, she had lost her balance and was falling backward. Each step was felt as she tumbled down the solid staircase, and the sheer pain of it all only came to a stop when she reached the bottom, and her world fading. The last thing she remembered hearing was Rodolphus shouting for her before everything went black.


	8. Return

Pain. Throbbing pain.

That was the first thing Bella felt when she finally came round to consciousness. It almost seemed cliché to feel that way, but as she groggily flexed her fingers, she couldn't care what it seemed like. There was a dull ache spreading through her body, with her head being the focal point for the time being, and her first thought was to wonder where she was. It wasn't the feel that gave it away that she wasn't in her own bed – what she was laying on had no give, and the sheets draped over her hands were course – but it was the smell. It wasn't familiar by any stretch. Everything seemed... sterile. After a moment or so of quick thinking, she deduced that she was in the hospital before she actually opened her eyes. When she realized that, she also noted that two voices were currently causing her head to hurt more than necessary.

"... embarrassing, Rodolphus," Narcissa snapped, her heels noisily clacking against the tile floor. "You couldn't have brought her somewhere more private? Where is your family healer?"

"Sick, ironically," her husband remarked, his voice strained, "I couldn't just let her sit it out at home. The healer here said it would have put her out completely if left untreated."

"Well," came a haughty reply, "if you hadn't pushed her in the first place, none of this would have been necessary, now would it?"

"Narcissa, I didn't push her," was the following response. "She slipped."

"My sister," Narcissa snarled pointedly, "is not clumsy. She wouldn't just slip and topple down the stairs!"

"You know I would never dare push her," the man snapped, his voice seemingly dangerous, although she was sure that had no effect on her sister, "I could never put her life at that sort of risk-"

"Lies, I'm sure. You're well versed in them."

"Narcissa-"

"Lucius told me you had a woman in your bed when he was there," she sneered, a hand suddenly resting on her forehead. It felt remarkably cool, "You disgust me."

"I was trying to prove a point-"

"Enough," Bellatrix croaked finally, her eyes still closed. "You're both killing my head."

There was a loud shuffling across the room, footsteps she recognized as Rodolphus, and suddenly two large hands clasped hers, "Oh, Bella, I was so worried... You didn't move or anything when I tried to wake you, so I-"

"Stop talking, Rodolphus," she sighed, her eyes flickering open with quite a lot of effort. She studied him momentarily, noting the large circles under his eyes, and the disarray his clothing was in. It seemed like he just threw on the closest thing that was lying on the floor. His eyes were red, now that she looked closer, but his dishevelled appearance meant nothing to her. Dragging her hand away from him, she turned her head toward her sister, "Cissy... How long have I been here?"

"Since last night," the blonde stated, sounding more relieved than anything. "Your husband called Lucius after your apparent stumble, and the two of them thought it smart to bring you to Mungo's."

"I see."

"The healer has given you something to ensure you don't slip into a coma, or whatever he called it," she continued hurriedly, her arms folded over her chest. "You woke up once before, about three hours ago to take the medication, but I think he also gave you something to sleep."

"I don't recall that," Bella mused, easing herself up on the bed into a sitting position, taking in the white, bland room once before sparing a glance down at her husband, "but you can leave."

"Bella-"

"Get out, Rodolphus," she hissed, her eyes narrowing, "I don't want to see you."

A stifling silence filled the room, and Rodolphus was soon on his feet and had left without another word. She could see the pain on his face, but she didn't care. The resounding click of the door shutting officially was rather loud, but Bella merely folded her arms across her chest. For about a minute or so, she could ignore the way her younger sister's eyes stared down at her, and for that minute a blissful quietness had settled within the room. Narcissa, however, saw fit to break that before she undoubtedly burst, "Did he push you, Bella?"

She sighed, "No, Cissy... I am pretty sure I slipped on the stair. I was just so... angry with him, I wasn't thinking clearly."

Narcissa pursed her lips, clearly unconvinced, and tapped the heel of her shoe on the ground quickly, "I could have Lucius get the truth out of him-"

Her sister's sentiment was cut off when Bellatrix snorted noisily. It hurt her head to do so, and she placed a hand softly on her skull, which she only now noticed was wrapped up loosely in fabric, "I'm sorry, sister dearest, but I can't imagine Lucius torturing anyone to breaking point… even if it is Rodolphus."

She smirked at the slightly stung look on Narcissa's face. It wasn't there because she had insulted her husband. No, it was there because they both knew that Bellatrix was truly the one to understand how effective Lucius was at torturing his fellow man. Bella had been the one to see it firsthand, of course. Narcissa, surely, wouldn't have the stomach for the brutalities of Death Eater life, and as thick as Lucius might be sometimes, he was bound to understand that.

"Well," Narcissa finally mustered, her chest puffing out a little, "then I will deal with him myself."

Although she wanted to laugh again, this time louder at the thought of Narcissa taking the situation into her own hands, she couldn't bring herself to do it. The pain was simply too much, and she rolled to the side, examining the table beside her. There were some flowers, a card with Narcissa's easily recognizable scrawl on it, and a glass of water.

"Why don't I have anything for the pain here?" Bellatrix demanded, deciding it was best to just steer the conversation elsewhere. After all, she had been the one to fall, even if Rodolphus put her in that situation, and it was all a little bit embarrassing. Narcissa shot her a look, one that meant she would pry later when given the opportunity, and then shook her head.

"_This_ is why I always say we need private physicians," she insisted, folding her arms across her slim figure. "Give me a moment… I'll try to find someone competent enough to get you what you need."

"Thank you," Bellatrix managed, tentatively relaxing her body a little more in an effort to get her head to stop throbbing. Her eyes followed Narcissa as she exited the small room, only to be replaced by Lucius a moment later, Draco in his arms. Bella grinned happily, and held out her arms, "My little godson!"

"Good to see you too," Lucius scoffed as he slid Draco into Bella's beckoning hands. The boy grinned and bounced on her lap at the contact. Ha! Whoever said Bellatrix couldn't get a child to like her clearly hadn't thought that her own sister's ought to have some sort of affection toward her. She couldn't wait until he was old enough to start teaching him how to set things on fire.

"How are you feeling?" Lucius inquired politely as he dragged a chair up to sit next to the bed. Bella shrugged a little, frowning at her nephew and godson as he started tugging on a piece of her dark hair that stuck out from under the dressings. She pushed his hands away irritably, and then sighed.

"My head feels horrible… Can't believe these bloody idiots didn't leave me anything for the pain when I woke up," she complained, casting Lucius a sidelong glance before returning her attention to the toddler on her lap.

"I always insist on a private doctor to handle our needs," Lucius stated, echoing her sister's sentiments. "I can't understand why Rodolphus wouldn't just ask to borrow our healer… She's always waiting for our call."

"I suppose he panicked," Bellatrix mused, smirking a little as Draco began to play with the blue buttons on his little outfit. "After all, he probably thought he killed me."

"He was a mess when he called on us," the man informed her, his tone a little cautious. "He said you slipped after you caught him with that trollop from work."

Her dark eyes narrowed dangerously, "You _knew_ he was with her-"

"No," Lucius managed to get in as quick as he could, his hands up innocently. "Not for long, anyway. He told me the day before yesterday about possibly doing this… ridiculous endeavour with that little girl from the office, and I told him he was insane."

"Why would you say that?" Bellatrix demanded, staring down her nose at her brother-in-law, scrutinizing the way he answered.

"Because he's married to you, obviously," Lucius droned, rolling his eyes as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You girls from that family really are one in a million… The thought that any other woman might even come close to what we've found seems… foolish. I told him he was playing with fire."

She blinked, momentarily taken back by the odd compliment he had given her, and then cleared her throat, "He can expect full repercussions."

"I wouldn't think you would stand for anything less."

Satisfied, Bellatrix returned her gaze to Draco, and then poked his side, making him squeal noisily. She smirked again, one that turned into a grin, and finally a genuine smile as the small boy's hands tried to grab at her. He wasn't all that old just yet, but Bellatrix thought he was brilliant. Already sitting up on his own…

"Draco looks good," she said finally, and she noticed Lucius was watching him too. "I hope you don't let Narcissa make him fat. You _know_ how she spoils him."

"I try to rein her in," Lucius laughed, "but she's as stubborn as you are sometimes."

"I suppose I'll have a chat with her," she continued, arching an eyebrow. "Baby fat is only cute for so long, and no family will want to marry their daughter to him if he stays rotund."

"I… How have we gotten to him being rotund?" Lucius chuckled. She opened her mouth, eager to discuss the fact that obesity ran in _his_ family line, but the door opened so suddenly that it threw her off. The figure who stood in the opening made Lucius frown, and seemingly steel himself against the intruder. However, Bellatrix knew exactly who it was… Tom. Her dark lord in disguise, the very same one he had used to trick her into putting his Hufflepuff cup into her vault, had come to see her.

"This is a private room," Lucius sneered, getting to his feet quickly. "Perhaps you're lost."

"He's a friend," Bellatrix stammered, sounding a touch unconvincing, even to herself, and she quickly hoisted Draco off her lap and held him out for his father to take. "Could you give us a moment, Lucius?"

The man took Draco from her arms, probably out of a fear that she might drop him in her slightly addled, hospitalized state, but he seemed a little unwilling to leave. She cleared her throat, her eyes still on the young man in the doorway, "He works for the dark lord… That's how I met him."

"Oh."

When he still didn't move, Bellatrix finally tore her attention away from her new visitor and snapped, "For Merlin's sake, Malfoy, get _out_!"

The snarl in her voice was finally enough to get him out. He did shoot the dark lord something of a sceptical look as he passed, and she was sure he would suffer for it later. However, the moment he stepped into her room and closed the door behind him, everything on the outside was forgotten. He had come to see her. He had come all this way, in disguise, to see her. It was… unexpected, to say the least. After all, he had sent her out in such a fit of rage the other night, although a quiet, deadly fit, that Bellatrix was a little unsure if he would even want to see her in the near future.

"How are you feeling, Bella?" he inquired, his steps precise as he sauntered toward the bed and stood at the end of it.

"Horrible," she admitted honestly, pushing herself off the obnoxiously large pillow behind her to get a little closer, "but I'll live."

"I'm glad," the dark lord mused, fingers laced together behind his back. "I was worried I would lose my most exuberant servant to a set of stairs."

"Never," Bellatrix breathed happily, her eyes locked with his. "I'm yours forever."

"Forever is a long time, little girl," he remarked, "but I will take your word for it."

She nibbled on her lower lip, lost in thought only for a moment. This had to mean something. He had to care for her more than he let on… He just had to. Therefore, she felt confident enough at that point to make her move. It was a little difficult, but she carefully removed the bedcovers and crawled down to the end of the bed. He stood there, watching her stoically, and she finally stopped at the very end, her hands gripping the bedpost tightly to keep herself from launching her body onto his. It took a lot of reserve, a lot of schooled caution, but she knew that patience was what she needed with her dark lord.

At that moment, she realized she must have looked like a disaster. Her body ached, her unruly hair was wrapped up in some ridiculous hospital dressings, and if no one had washed her, she probably had the most horrible make-up smeared around her eyes.

"You were never my favourite for your looks," he said quietly, the familiar numbing buzz at the back of her mind as he read her thoughts. She held her breath quietly, and kept herself painfully still as he reached forward and ran his fingers along the bandages, just barely touching her. Their dark eyes met once more, "Get better soon, Bella. There is so much to do, and I cannot have you out of commission for too long."

"Of course not," Bellatrix managed, the softness of her voice matching his perfectly. "Thank you for coming."

She knew he would hate for her to thank him, but she did it anyway. It was as natural as breathing to praise him, and surely he was aware of this by now. However, she still felt her stomach knot when he pulled his hand away, a scolding look in his eye, but she ignored it. They stayed in that proximity for some time, although she realized he could leave at any moment. Perhaps he chose not to. She tentatively touched the front of his cloak with one hand, bringing herself a little closer, and then tilted her chin up.

If he wanted to, he could kiss her.

The moment, however, was spoiled as Narcissa burst into the room, a glass of water in one hand and a bottle of pills in the other, "It took me ages to find someone mentally capable at this ridiculous excuse for a…"

She trailed off when she caught sight of the pair by Bella's bed. Bellatrix hastily brought herself away from the dark lord, who had also taken a respectful step back. It was as though they were two teens caught by an adult in the midst of canoodling. Her cheeks tinted embarrassingly a little at the thought.

"Get better soon," the dark lord instructed, his tone decidedly more neutral than Bellatrix was comfortable with, and a moment later he had vanished from the room. She glared daggers at her sister, who arched an eyebrow haughtily, challenging her, but said nothing.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Yes! An update finalllly! After seeing HP 7.2 for the second time, I couldn't help but squee at the Bellamort moments I could get from it. Therefore, this seemed like a good time to get a muse back. Somehow it came while studying for a summer term midterm. It might be a little ... off, but that's because I've had no muse and haven't written anything for a year or two. However, I started moving 'Lovers' over to Mibba, as it's really my favourite, and re-reading it reminded me how much I actually LOVE this story. I plan on writing a Narcissa companion fic to 'Lovers' too, so keep an eye out for that. **

**SO. I think I will try to get this baby rolling. It won't be terribly long… I had always planned to do it in three stages, maybe four, detailing their relationship all the way through, particularly the in-between parts. I think this will also have a little more Voldemort than I originally thought. He's too fun here to let go. **

**Poor Rodolphus. **


	9. Flames and Electricity

"Now, are you sure you don't want to stay with me?" Narcissa inquired as Bellatrix leaned, somewhat begrudgingly, on her. "You know there are more than enough guest rooms at the manor… We wouldn't even have to be in the same wing."

The two took it very slow on the march up to the front door of Bella's home, mostly because her concussion wouldn't allow her to move much faster. She shot her blonde sister a somewhat irritated look, and then sighed, "We've already had this conversation-"

"I know," Narcissa interjected sharply, cutting her off without a second thought, "but I just don't think your head is in the right place at the moment, and I think-"

"For fuck's sake, Cissy," Bellatrix snapped, stunning her sister into a silence. "Look, I'm happy you got me out of that hellhole, but I just want to burn my sheets, and then crawl into my own bed."

Her sister's cheeks were sucked in, no doubt at her displeasure with Bella's word choice, but she knew the younger woman would understand. For some ridiculous reason, the staff at Mungo's wanted to keep her another night, just to monitor her condition. Like Hell that was going to happen. She demanded Lucius return home and call on his private physician, seeing as hers had taken ill recently, and the woman would come round to decide Bella's fitness once she was home. The idiots at the public hospital put up a bit of a fight, but Narcissa was the one to finally put her foot down, and the conversation ended very quickly.

Apparently she had a fairly serious concussion from the fall, but the medicine that the healers had given her took away the brunt of it. For now, her body ached. Her head ached. Everything ached. The healers there told her it would take a few days to start to feel normal again, and by the end of the week, she would be able to indulge in her normal activities again.

She didn't have a week. The dark lord wanted her back in his service as soon as possible, and Bellatrix had no qualms with bullying Narcissa's private healer into giving her a perfectly acceptable clean bill of health when the woman came to visit the following day. After all, he had made a personal trip to see her, despite the irritation she had caused him recently, and that meant everything. She was eager to fall back in line, and see what he had planned next for her.

Fucking Rodolphus would ruin everything if she couldn't get straight back to work, and she would never forgive him for that. Naturally, there were other things he had done to wrong her as of late, but Bellatrix could get over it. The cheating too… Maybe. She was fully aware that one might call her a hypocrite because of her relationship with her dark master, but since that dreadful ring had touched her finger, Bellatrix had been faithful sexually. Unfortunately, Rodolphus could no longer say the same. It was nice to have the upper hand morally for once.

"I know you want to sleep it off," Narcissa insisted as she gently leaned Bella against the doorframe, and then rummaged in her cloak for her wand to unlock the door, "but… I don't want you staying here with him. As far as I'm concerned, he pushed you."

"Pushed me into nearly hexing him into oblivion, maybe," Bellatrix grumbled, rolling her eyes a little, "but I fell… all by myself. I feel perfectly safe in my own home, and you should too."

"Your ego leaves me doubtful," her sister stated, giving Bella a hard look. "Promise you'll stay with me if you need to."

"Cissy, just open the door!" Bella cried, her arms wrapped around her thin figure as her head rested gently against the wall, "I want to get in!"

"Promise me."

"Fine," Bellatrix hissed. "Would you like a blood promise, or is my word sufficed?"

"For now," her sister sniffed, and then flicked her wand at the door knob. She heard the typical lock open, and accepted Narcissa's arm to help her walk slowly into her home. They broke apart so Narcissa could shut the door, and Bellatrix nearly collapsed onto the chair in the front hall, a look of frustration on her face. She couldn't believe how painful her body felt. It wasn't as if she had refused the pain potions, but she thought she was strong enough to get by on just one or two. However, it became clear now that she would need more over the course of the day. Perhaps she might call upon dear Severus… the little runt had an affinity for potions, and everyone knew it. He was bound to be able to make something a little stronger, something that would help her get through the day on one dosage.

She leaned back in the chair, her eyes shut to collect herself, and suddenly felt the laces on her heels being untied. When she looked down, she spotted her sister crouched in front of her, gently untying the laces the best she could without moving her feet too much. Without warning, she felt a sudden swell of emotion toward the woman, who had no hidden agenda in doing this. Everything Narcissa did for her was genuinely for the love the pair shared. Yes, sometimes the younger woman was a little selfish, but Bella blamed that more on the way she was raised than anything; Narcissa always got what she wanted. She was the Golden Child. Yet, here she was, on her knees, removing Bella's shoes so that she wouldn't have to bend down to do it herself, and without magic to ensure softness. Smiling a little, Bellatrix reached out and managed to touch the wisps of her loose blonde hair, making her look up. Light eyes met dark ones, and they exchanged a smile.

"Thank you," Bellatrix whispered. Narcissa grasped her pale hand and kissed it, gave her a nod, and then continued to remove her shoes, tossing them aside for the house elf to collect later. They then got Bellatrix to her feet, and she felt as if she was dragging her body through the house. The stairs were definitely the worst, but they took them one at a time, sometimes waiting a few seconds for her head to stop hurting to continue to the next.

It never really stopped hurting, but there were variations in the pain that Bellatrix could tolerate, and though she wished she could handle more, she was starting to realize that those bloody healers at Mungo's were right; she needed time… Time she didn't have, unfortunately.

"Promise me something…"

"Something _more_," Bellatrix groaned as they strolled along the corridor to the master bedroom. Narcissa sighed, as though Bellatrix was being more petulant than normal. However, when she looked at her sister, she noticed something real in her eyes. This wasn't nagging… This emotion was something different. Worry. Fear. Narcissa nibbled on her lower lip, and then stopped them.

"Promise me you'll take the time you need," she ordered firmly. "Promise me you won't run back to him tomorrow… Because we both know you won't be healed."

She arched an eyebrow, "Him?"

"I'm not stupid, Bella," Narcissa exclaimed, seeming exasperated with her. "You don't have _friends _in the ranks… No one that would come and see you, anyway. I knew it was _him_, and you can't go running back until you're better. It'll only do you more harm than good!"

"I… I can't…" Bellatrix stammered, a little thrown off that Narcissa was aware of her relationship with the dark lord, "I can't make that promise to you."

"You owe it to me," Narcissa pressed, taking both hands in hers and squeezing them. "He'll live without you for a week-"

"He'll forget that I'm at the top in a week," Bellatrix whispered heatedly. "He needs me _now_, and if I can't be there, then I'm sure I'll be replaced by someone who can do it… Everyone is willing to cut your throat to get his favour."

"Bella," her sister scoffed, shaking her head flippantly. "We both know you have something the men can't give him, therefore you won't lose your place. I'm sure he knows what you can do, and he is surely understanding-"

"What gives you the impression he is understanding toward weakness?" Bellatrix sneered, putting up a front as the conversation shifted toward Voldemort, "You don't know him, Cissy… So don't pretend like you do."

"I'll keep my opinions about him to myself then," Narcissa replied, her tone suddenly as equally unappealing as Bella's. "Don't push yourself before you're ready."

"Yes, mother," Bellatrix droned, smirking a little. Narcissa's face, however, remained decidedly neutral, and she linked their arms together again, and then carried on down the hallway. It was strange to think that her sister even had an opinion on Voldemort. Perhaps it was because Narcissa was never directly involved, but Bellatrix assumed that she adored the man as much as the dark-haired witch did. Well, Bellatrix sort of assumed everyone loved him with the same fanatical devotion that she did, but according to the media, that wasn't necessarily the case. They all needed to wait for his pure genius to become public. Then they would all see… Narcissa would understand her devotion someday, but clearly not today.

When they arrived in her room, Narcissa tenderly removed her cloak, and Bellatrix glared venomously at her defiled bed.

"My wand," she ordered quietly, holding out her hand. Narcissa dug into her cloak and pulled it out, wordlessly setting it in the palm of her hand. Bellatrix stared at the bed, the four-poster glory that she had sunk into contently many nights since she and Rodolphus had been married. That lovely, large bed that she spread out in, hogged the sheet in, and fucked her husband in. It had a lot of surprisingly fond memories, despite the new stain. However, she could no longer let it live in her house. Had the girl been there still, Bellatrix might have done it to her… However, without so much as breathing the spell, she lit the entire bed on fire, causing Narcissa to shriek.

"Bella!" she called, rushing forward with her own wand in hand, "You said you wanted to set the sheets on fire! This could burn down your entire house!"

"I'm in control," Bellatrix muttered as she watched the flames dance, licking at the wood bedposts, seeping out onto the carpet beneath it. The corners of her lips curled upward, and she almost wanted to laugh as that bed, full of lovely memories, crumbled to the floor. Suddenly, the double doors to her bedroom flew open, and Rodolphus barrelled in, eyes wide, wand out.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, flicking his wand to curtail the flames against the rest of the bedroom, "Bella, what are you thinking?"

"I'm getting rid of your love nest," she informed him, not missing a beat. The witch levelled her wand at other parts of the room, ready to set them on fire, but her wand was charmed from her grasp, and landed in Narcissa's free hand. "Cissy-"

"No," her sister said quickly, cutting her off, "I understand your anger, and I know what you want to do… I won't let you bring this house to the ground."

"Then you may leave," Bellatrix remarked curtly, looking at neither of them as she stared blankly at the ashes of her former bed. She heard Narcissa's heels click as the woman sashayed across the room, and to her silent shock she gave Bella's wand over to Rodolphus.

"I'll be back shortly to collect you," Narcissa informed her. "It's clear that you cannot remain here on your own."

Bellatrix said nothing, her dark eyes still fixated on the desecrated bed. She could faintly hear her sister snarl something at Rodolphus, but within a moment she had vanished from the room, no doubt apparating home to prepare a fresh bed for her. Silence settled over the couple, and finally Bellatrix decided it was time to lay down the law.

"I plan on getting a new bed," Bellatrix informed him, "but you are no longer welcome in it."

"Bella-"

"Consider yourself banned from my company, until I see fit that you deserve it again."

"That's hardly fair," he started. She heard him take a few steps toward her, and she whirled around, ignoring the horrible way it made her ache.

"No," she snapped, her eyes watering involuntarily. "No, you know what isn't fair? I can't do anything for him now. You've made me weak, and if you love me the way you claim to, you'd know I'd take any punishment in this world over feeling weak and useless. You've spoiled me, and you've spoiled us."

For the first time in what felt like forever, she met his gaze, and he opened his mouth several times before closing it, and Bellatrix knew, in some small part, she was right.

"Go. Leave me be."

"No," he hissed, moving toward her and taking hold of her arms. "Please, please can we just talk… Argue, yell, beat each other, I don't care! Just-"

"You're hurting me," Bellatrix sneered, her body shrieking at the rough touch. Her husband instantly released her, but he didn't back away.

"Let's fight. Yell at me… Do what you want, but please can we try to work through-"

"I don't want to talk to you," she informed him with a shake of her head, her eyes going to the floor, "because if I do, we'll fight. When we fight, we're like electricity… and I don't want to feel that with you right now."

She paused, took one last look at the hurt on his face, and then managed to shuffle back, "Now… Get out."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**A **_**very**_** calm fight for Bellatrix. Now, I've only had a mild concussion, but even that sucked, so I can't imagine what a real one feels like. The sheer crappery of it is probably what has toned Bella down. **


	10. Finally

There were many things that Bellatrix adored about her sister. Her generosity, not only to her family but to various charities, certainly stood out. She was a wonderful mother, a loving wife, and the perfect sister and best friend. Bellatrix could always count on her in a bind, and she learned from their mother how to make Bellatrix's favourite dessert – pumpkin pie – right down to the exact ratio of whip cream required to make it spectacular. Her sense of humour may not have been Bella's, but they knew how to share a laugh. Unfortunately, there were several traits about her darling sister that drove her absolutely insane. On occasion, Narcissa could be the most frustrating perfectionist. Her appearance, home, and state of the men in her life were never safe from her scrutinizing eye. She nagged to no end, something she also must have gotten from their mother, and always knew the perfect way to really dig at a person, but do so with a smile. Neither Bellatrix nor Lucius were exceptions to her sharp tongue, though Bella was more than happy to give it back whenever she dished it her way. The woman was meticulous with the cleanliness of her home, and had already gotten Bellatrix in trouble several times over the four days she had stayed there for leaving cups in obscure places and tracking dirt in from the back garden.

She would never, ever say it to Narcissa, but living under her roof almost felt like living at home with her parents. Bellatrix felt like an intrusion whenever her sister and her husband had some alone time at night – not that that stopped her from interrupting, but some very small part of her felt bad for doing so. She was disciplined for the most ridiculous things, things a grown woman should no longer have to deal with, and nothing ever felt like hers. She felt out of place and a little uncomfortable, and decided on her fourth morning there that she loved to visit her sister, but she certainly couldn't live here for longer than a week. That was her allotted timeframe that she gave herself when she moved in. One week to let herself simmer, and then decide if she wanted to kick Rodolphus permanently to a separate room. Divorces were unheard of in her circles, unfortunately. While Bellatrix was not one to adhere to social standards, she couldn't stand the humiliation and gossip that would follow if she left her husband.

Now that she had some peace in a place that suited her more than the damned public hospital, Bellatrix decided that she knew, vaguely, why Rodolphus would have affair with some little whore from work. In his own ridiculous way, he wanted her to be jealous of him. However, he pushed the lesson way too far, and Bellatrix thought he definitely crossed a line. She may have been in love with another man, but Bellatrix bore it in silence, and had never once soiled her marriage vows. Rodolphus, on the other hand, had done just that. Clearly he didn't know how to play _any_ sort of game, because he went overboard on his first attempt. It was actually a little pathetic. For now, Bellatrix knew she didn't want to look at him. The sight of his face would be enough to send her into a violent rage, and potentially set her bedroom in fire again. However, she knew that once she had her cool down period at her sister's, she would be able to face him again and properly handle the situation. That was still a few days off, and she was more than happy to take the time she needed to sort herself out.

Well, until the afternoon on her fourth day happened. Narcissa acclimatized to their mother's world flawlessly, and Bellatrix visibly recoiled when her sister informed her that morning at breakfast that she was hosting tea in the afternoon for all the wives they knew. Horrified, Bellatrix tried to worm her way out of it, but Narcissa somehow managed to force her into setting up the sitting room, and then slipped in the line, "Oh, well you're here, and the ladies are almost here, and I've set up a spot for you right next to me…"

Somehow, Bellatrix was forced into tea and crumpets with her generation's societal snobs. They all arrived in a flurry of clacking heels and swishing cloaks, which the house elf gathered up without a word. They were noisy, obnoxious, and clad in white gloves that served no real function in Bella's eyes. She guessed that it gave them an excuse not to lift a finger for fear that they would spoil those delicate gloves. As much as it pained her to say, Narcissa looked every bit that societal snob. In an elegant purple dress that cinched at the waist and flowed elegantly down to her calves. Her hair was drawn up in a lovely knot, and her make-up was perfected down to the very last detail. There were several other Narcissa's in the room with her, and they all crossed their ankles when they sat, just as their mothers taught them. They held their tea plates with grace, and a pinky finger extended whenever they sipped their drinks delicately. No one touched the baked goods for fear of being the first one to show signs of hungry.

And then there was Bella.

Her dark hair hung loose around her shoulders, just barely brushed, but pleasant enough to look presentable. Her mother had also taught her how to sit, but she opted to cross one leg over the other, her hemline dragged up to expose more skin than any of the other women. She opted for no make-up, as she hadn't expected to stay long enough to socialize, but Bellatrix noticed the distinct once over each woman gave her when they leaned in for a greeting hug. Her dress was plain, not satin, not silk, but form fitting to the knees, after which it flared out only a little. She was the voluptuous temptress, and the other women were angels in pearls. It certainly didn't bother her, but as the little charade wore on, she slowly started to feel their stolen glances chip at her. Despite the fact she was sitting on a love seat with Narcissa, who sang her praises whenever possible, she felt isolated. Outside of this, she wouldn't be caught dead with any of these women. In fact, she knew some of their husbands better than she knew them, and she decided that she preferred it that way.

She never felt this way when she was with her fellow Death Eaters. They respected Bellatrix. Even though she was a woman among men, she had had the upper hand for quite some time now. Regardless of the fact that she and the Dark Lord were clearly more than servant and master, Bellatrix had a certain power for the dark arts that appealed to men. Unfortunately, she couldn't discuss it here. How many of them knew she spent nights out with their husbands, torturing Ministry stooges and setting Muggle homes on fire? How many truly knew their husbands like she did? How many of these women knew their darkness? It almost felt offensive to sit there and drink tea as she listened to idle gossip, none of which she was even remotely interested in. Someone bought new drapes. Someone else and her husband had a fight at a restaurant in front of _everyone_. Someone else is holding a charity fundraiser in two weeks to benefit starving children somewhere.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes and leaned forward to the coffee table. She then grabbed a handful of cookies, the first of the afternoon to be tasted, and sunk back into the depths of Narcissa's couch, shoving them in her mouth moodily. This was ridiculous. It was like she was being held prisoner at her mother's dinner parties all over again, but this time she didn't have her father to rescue her by sending her off to look after her younger sister. There was one small glimmer of hope that Lucius might absently stroll in and she could escort him out, but that seemed unlikely. When he found out the women were coming over for tea, he made up some phony excuse to leave the house and was gone in a flash. Draco had been napping since noon, and though Bellatrix wanted to go wake him, she was sure Narcissa would object. The toddler was bound to cause trouble, she'd argue, which would make Bellatrix grin and shrug innocently. As much as she fantasized about her nephew running amuck and terrorizing the ladies, she knew it was never going to happen. Unfortunately, it was going to stay a fantasy.

Somewhere in the dizzy fog that was her focus on reality, she heard her name being called. Straightening up a little, she cleared her throat and cocked an eyebrow, "Sorry, what?"

"I asked how you were feeling, Bellatrix," a brunette woman who looked remarkably similar to Narcissa insisted, tea cup in hand. "What exactly happened that night?"

She shot her sister a slightly miffed look for telling the other women about her fall, and then returned her attention back to the woman, a forced smirk on her lips, "I slipped on the staircase. It was stupid."

"Oh, that's what they all say," another woman replied somewhat snootily. "Did your husband play an active role in your… slip?"

Bellatrix felt her eyes narrow at the bitch, and then with a deadpan expression repeated, "I slipped on the staircase."

"All right, dear, no need to become defensive."

She gave her sister another glare and returned her focus to eating her cookies, unhappy that the conversation had somehow drifted over to her.

"Now, all that aside, how is your husband?"

"Fine," Bellatrix forced. They seemed to wait for more, breath baited. Whenever they were asked about their husbands, the woman launched into some tirade about their work life and what promotions they had gotten recently, or other accomplishments. To be honest, Bellatrix didn't know or care about what Rodolphus did at the office, nor did he have any special hobbies that she could think of.

"Can we expect to see the Lestrange family expanding anytime soon?"

She felt Narcissa stiffen beside her as Bellatrix crushed a cookie in her hand. How dare that cow ask such a personal question? Bellatrix wasn't aware that they were friends in any way that might indicate such an inquiry would be appropriate. She gritted her teeth, and snapped, "No."

"Well, you might want to get on that soon. You must be almost thirty by now?"

"Tick tock, darling."

"I bet you and Rodolphus would have _such_ lovely little children!"

Bellatrix said nothing. She couldn't have children. That much was clear in her private circles, and if these women were close enough to be included in them, they would know that too. It wasn't the subject matter that upset Bella, but rather the presumption that these cows took when they spoke to her. Without saying another word, Bellatrix stood up, dumped her remaining cookies back on the plate. She certainly didn't want to cause a scene, especially for Narcissa's sake, who looked pained enough already now that the topic of children had been brought up. Instead, she decided to leave. However, it seemed one of the women was remarkably persistent.

"Oh, was it something I said?" she asked, a hint of a smile on her lips, "I didn't mean to offend you-"

"Do you know," Bellatrix spat, turning back to face the woman quickly, her eyes flashing, "that your husband fucks Muggle women before he kills them?"

The woman looked absolutely mortified, her jaw dropping indignantly. Narcissa gasped Bella's name heatedly behind her, but she ignored her sister, too sick of presumptuous stuck-up snobs to care about spoiling the tea party.

"Rumour has it he likes to bend them over tables and everything," she taunted, her features rigid. "Is it something he's missing out on at home?"

Silence continued in the room, and Bellatrix cocked her head to the side, and then shrugged, "I didn't mean to offend you, my dear."

She fluttered her eyelashes and then turned away, storming out of the parlour and slamming the door behind her. Narcissa was going to throttle her. Before she could get the chance, Bellatrix darted upstairs and grabbed her wand, apparating away from the Malfoy Manor in a heartbeat. For a moment, she thought about going home. However, she couldn't face her husband. Instead, she sent herself to the one place where she felt truly at peace, even if she wasn't particularly wanted.

Feet bare, Bellatrix strolled along the cold floor of Voldemort's dungeons, and then moved with ease up from the bowels of his home. On the first floor, she heard his beloved snake hiss at her, but when she searched for the source of the sound, she found nothing. Eventually, she stopped at his office, but found it empty. A sadness gripped her. Hopefully, he was actually home. She wasn't about to lurk around in his house all day just to wait for him… That would probably infuriate him. Bellatrix hadn't been here alone since she last begged him to let them carry on their tryst, but it felt as if no time had passed at all.

"Bellatrix," she heard him purr from down the hall. "What are you doing here?"

For a moment, she kept her back to him, her head cocked to the side as she stared blankly into space. He called her name again and she shut her eyes, lips curling up when she heard his footsteps march slowly toward her. He stopped close enough for Bellatrix to hear his breathing, and they simply stood still in the darkened hallway for some time. She wasn't exactly sure why, but she couldn't bring herself to face him just yet. Suddenly, there was a hand on her elbow and it slides down her arm, the tips of his fingers curling over her limp ones.

"How are you feeling?" he asked in her ear, her skin prickling.

"Perfect," Bellatrix replied. "My medi-witch approved my return to you last night."

"I will expect to see you soon then," the Dark Lord remarked, his free hand grabbed her hair and pushing the mass all the one side. She nodded, unable to say anything else in his presence. She hadn't felt his touch in so very long. There may have been a few lingering, fleeting accidental scrapes along the way, but she was almost overwhelmed by him at that very moment.

"Why did you come here?" he demanded again, fingers walking down her back until they reached her hips, tightly wrapped in her dark dress. He paused momentarily, and then walked the thin digits over the swell in her body, arousing a deep yearning in her that had been patient for far too long. She stayed silent, as if she hadn't heard the question. All of a sudden, his hand clamped around her hips and shoved her back into the wall forcefully, head colliding against the stone. It hurt, but she held her tongue. Instead, she stared down her nose at him, eyes half-closed and breathing light as he glared at her. He repeated the question, this time harshly, but Bellatrix was too far gone now to fear his tone. Their eyes met, and she knew that he understood why she could come here to him. Cheeks sunken, a sign of irritation, he reached out and wrapped a hand around her throat, pushing her back further into the wall. Bellatrix heard Nagini hiss again from down the hall. She knew he wanted to ask her again, maybe chastise her for coming here with some level of comfort she ought not to have, but instead, he kissed her.

It wasn't the chaste kiss they had shared so long ago when Draco was born. Instead, it was full of more passion than she had expected, as though he felt the same longing she had all this time. It was reviving. It was like he was breathing new life into her. She parted her lips, the perfect specimen of compliance and eagerness wrapped up in one woman. Their rhythm came naturally, but she kept her hands at her side to keep it from a romantic embrace. When he broke the kiss, he leaned his forehead against hers, their breathing equally ragged, his hands still compressed around her neck. She opened her mouth, and then whispered, "Please?"

Her voice was strained, desperate and enamoured. She couldn't help it. The Dark Lord seemed to contemplate her plea for a second, and then bit down roughly on her plump lower lip, making her cry out against him. Her hand flew up and ran through his hair, fingers knotting in the thickness as she tugged at him to release her. When he finally did, she felt something wet dribble down her chin. Unsure of whether it was blood or saliva, Bellatrix licked it away regardless and dragged his head back down to hers, their lips mashing in a denied fury finally unleashed. He seemed to want to hoist her up, but her dress was too tight to pull her legs apart. She noticed him reach into his pocket and withdraw his wand, and then run it along the side of her leg, cutting the slit into the fabric. Then, to her astonishment, he tossed his wand aside and ripped the material with his hands, breaking it all the way up to her waist. Bellatrix happily helped hoist herself up, legs wrapping around him in a familiar fashion as he nibbled down her neck.

She ached for him. Literally. Every muscle in her body screamed for his touch again, and as she hastily undid his belt buckle, he set her legs down and crooked his fingers under the band of her knickers, sliding them down her legs. She stepped out of them and kicked them aside, gasping a little when he picked her back up only a hint, and then thrust into her completely without warning. It was a splendid mixture of pain and pleasure. Exactly what she needed. He was divine, in every sense of the word.

Bellatrix moaned softly as he continued to ram her against the wall, his head nestled in the crook of her neck. With one hand digging into her neck, he kept one firmly on her hips, his breath hitching against her skin with each thrust.

"Children," Bellatrix groaned suddenly. He paused, and looked up at her flushed cheeks. She had wanted to tell him why she was there, but it sort of came out jumbled in her sex addled brain, "They wouldn't stop talking about children… and I… I can't…"

The Dark Lord gave her a quick peck, nothing comforting or soothing, but potentially as a means to shut her up, and then arched an eyebrow, "I _hate_ children."

Merlin, she loved him. Bellatrix cried out again when he renewed his efforts, her hips cocked just perfectly to give him a deeper angle. She came shortly after, apparently too enthralled in him to continue on for long. He managed to carry on for some time after, groaning her name against her skin when he finished, fingers leaving dark bruises on her body.

"Can I stay here?" she asked as he slowly withdrew from her. When he looked up, there was this frustratingly unreadable look on his face, and for a moment she thought he might kick her out now that he was satisfied.

"Only for today," the Dark Lord told her, making her smile darkly, "and you aren't allowed any clothing."

"I suppose I'll find it in me to accept those terms," she exhaled dramatically, grasping the bottom of her ruined dress and dragging it up and over her head. "Any more terms that I should know about?"

His own dark smile matched hers, and he wrapped an arm around her lower back, "I might be able to think of a few…"

And with that, Bellatrix fell into Heaven.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Yeay for whoever requested this in my weekly poll! I had the muse as soon as I saw there was an audience for it, so I hope you weren't disappointed. I'm pretty exhausted, and wrote this later at night than I like to be writing, so I apologize for any mistakes made. **

**Love, love, love!**


	11. Mrs Lestrange

Bellatrix was in absolute paradise. After spending the entire day in bed with the man she desired most, she wasn't exactly sure how she could go back to reality. As per his request, she had been naked all day as he lavished every inch of her with more attention than she ever thought possible. They paused only when Voldemort professed he was hungry, and she ended up cooking him some odd combination of the small amount of food in his cupboards to ensure he was always left satisfied. Afterward, he informed her he needed to check on some things, and wouldn't be gone for more than a half an hour. While she waited, Bellatrix lounged out on his bed seductively, the curve of her hip bold and illuminated by the nearby fire's glow. In all honesty, she had never spent this long in the nude before, but once the novelty wore off, she found herself rather comfortable. Every so often, she heard Nagini find a different spot in the room to curl up in, but never once had the snake bothered her. Bellatrix took that as a good sign, considering the snake hissed at nearly everyone else whenever they had meetings. A look from their master soothed her, but she was on the warpath whenever he wasn't there. Sniffing out weakness, perhaps? Bella made a note to bring her in some Muggle remains to munch on next time.

As she sprawled out, Bellatrix stretched her limbs, totally relaxed. Her head had been a little sore a while after Voldemort knocked it against the wall, but it seemed like nothing more than a headache. He hadn't asked her how she was after she told him the medi-witch gave her clearance, but she certainly didn't expect him to. As long as there wasn't any sort of physical reminder, she was quite sure the Dark Lord wasn't one to ask about her well-being, or anyone's for that matter. Bellatrix knew she was special in his eyes, but she didn't delude herself into thinking he would change who he was for her. She loved him just the way he was, even if it meant he was insensitive and occasionally a little hurtful.

Right on cue, she heard the doorknob to his darkened bedroom turn, and seconds later he flew in, his cloak a flurry of black around him.

"Get up," he hissed, grabbing her by the arm and hauling her to her feet. "I have something for you."

She stumbled a little to keep her foot, her skin prickling when his rain soaked cloak brushed against it.

"Is everything all right?" Bellatrix inquired hesitantly, his tone indicating his disinterest in any sort of discussion. However, if by some stretch of the imagination she had done something to offend him, she wanted to get some idea of it before he punished her

"Oh, my Bella," he chuckled darkly, pulling her into him suddenly and wrapping his black, wet cloak around her. "Don't look so upset. I brought you a present."

"A… present?" she repeated, her reserve softening. In its place, a feeling of intense excitement started to curl in the pit of her stomach, "You've never gotten me a present before!"

"Oh, don't blush too hard, my dear," he purred, "because I only just stumbled upon these treasures on my way home."

"But you thought of me," Bellatrix commented cheekily, her nose in the air as she smiled her devilish smile. "I think that counts for something."

"A compliment to your darker nature," the Dark Lord told her, giving her something of a wink as they quickly marched down the dingy, cold stairs to his dungeons. The air, as always, was intoxicating. She breathed it in deeply, the scent of blood, dirt, grime and fear creating a delicious concoction for her senses to immerse themselves in. He pulled her to one of his smaller dungeons, one of three that he used for various purposes underground. She always found the smaller his teaching space, the more intimate it became when they were alone. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness swiftly, having been inside the dimly lit house all day, and as he hauled the thick wooden door open, Bellatrix crept in cautiously behind him, both eager and apprehensive about what he might think is a suitable present for her.

Bellatrix immediately spotted what she assumed was her gift, and she couldn't help but squeal happily. He chuckled darkly behind her, and she turned back to give him a quick peck on the cheek, "Oh, thank you!"

He seemed momentarily displeased with the gesture, and she automatically knew it was too romantic for him. With that in mind, she knew she had to impress him with what was to come. Before her, strewn across the floor like rags, was a pair of Muggle men. They were young, perhaps younger than Cissy, and so blatantly non-magical that it made her gag a little. Their faces were dirty, eyes a little dazed, and necks chained to the wall by heavy iron restraints. They were wet, just like the Dark Lord, and Bellatrix assumed he found them on his travels around his expansive property.

"I found them snooping, Bella dear," he explained, his voice caressing her as she stared at the men, eyes wide and tongue almost lolling out to lick her lips. "Perhaps they knew I had such a lovely specimen strolling naked around my home."

Her cheeks hummed red at the compliment, but she said nothing, muscles tensed as a lioness who found her newest kill. He strolled behind her slowly, lazily, his shoes soft on the stone floor. One of the men was watching him, his lower lip hanging open as if waiting for the flies to come. She wanted to pluck his eyes out. How _dare_ he look at the Dark Lord with such disgust!

"I think they might have been thieves," she said finally, the dungeon thick with tense energy, "and came to rob you of your goods. Do you know what filthy Muggles used to do with thieves, my Lord?"

"Do tell, Bella."

"They cut their hands off."

"Such barbaric folk, Muggles," Voldemort hissed, flicking his wands at the men. Instantly, the dazed looks vanished from their eyes, and they were alert once more, struggling pointlessly against their bonds.

"What the fuck is this?"

Bellatrix wrinkled her nose at their profanity, but felt no need to hide herself in front of their wandering eyes. If the Dark Lord hadn't dressed her before bringing her down to receive her gift, then why should she bother to hide her naked form? It was something he enjoyed to watch, perhaps almost as much as the way she killed. At that moment, she realized this was a gift for both of them, and she wasn't about to disappoint.

"Shall I do the honours, my Lord?" Bellatrix asked, looking at him for the first time. Their eyes met momentarily, dangerously, and then she cast them down to show her respect, "I can punish them as Muggles ought to be punished."

"Crazy bitch!"

She ignored them. As she waited for him to decide what she ought to do, nothing else existed. It wasn't until he strolled up to her and slipped his own wand in her hand, a sign of sheer and utter trust in her eyes, that Bellatrix knew he was ready for her to begin. She held the wood between two fingers, gauging the weight and thickness of it. The wand itself wasn't what she expected. She assumed it would be rigid, unyielding… more like hers. However, this one had a little more give to it, but she could still feel the power that pulsated from its core. Bellatrix wasn't aware of his wand core. However, she knew it would be powerful, and most certainly rare. After all, those two words fit him perfectly, did they not?

Bellatrix brought the wand up to her lips, pressing the tip against them, and then cocked her head to the side. Which man to start with? They looked roughly the same; grubby little lower class urchins who probably sat around smoking and whistling at whores. No one was going to miss them. Not one bit. Finally, she decided to silence the loudest of the two, and did so with a flick of her master's wand. Her eyes widened, marvelled at the power that the wand gave her, and she almost groaned excitedly.

"Do you like your present?" he whispered in her ear, breaking her concentration for only a moment. She nibbled on her lower lip, and then nodded, careful to keep any overt displays of affection under wraps until she had finished with the boys. Fluttering her eyelashes, she crouched down in front of the one she had silenced, and then pursed her lips. With the wand level to his face, she easily brought him under the Imperious Curse.

"Start pulling your finger nails off," she instructed. "One by one. If you finish before I'm finished with your friend, I'll punish you."

The boisterous oaf nodded dumbly, and then set to work on his left hand, wrenching his thumb nail up awkwardly. His companion's eyes widened, and he hastily backed himself away from her naked figure. She pouted, "What's wrong? Aren't I attractive enough for you?"

"You're fucking insane-"

"Such horrible language," Bellatrix purred, shaking her head. "Perhaps I'll do something about that first… You _are_ in the presence of a lady, after all."

The Dark Lord snorted loudly behind her, and she glanced back, an eyebrow arched. He held his hands up, a wry grin on his lips, and leaned back against the dark stone wall, eyes still fixated on Bellatrix. Pleased that she had his full attention, she brought her focus back to her captive and trailed the tip of her master's wand along the side of his face, as if it was a loving gesture. He was going to die. She just needed to figure out the most creative way to do it to entertain her audience. Bellatrix started by enlarging his tongue, so much so that it filled his entire mouth to the point of bursting. His eyes watered when she heard a soft crack come from his jaw hinge, but she ignored it. That ought to teach him to mouth off to her.

Bellatrix then moved onto everything she had stored in her arsenal. The man's body morphed into various shapes and sizes. She set it on fire, cooled it with ice, and laughed as horrendous bumps began to grow along all marks of exposed flesh. Like a pox, she enjoyed deforming every piece of him in the most painful way possible. When she fell into a groove, she barely even remembered the Dark Lord was there, unless he whispered a helpful suggestion every so often, which she always used as her next hex.

She occasionally looked back over at his companion, and found he had removed over half his finger nails, whimpering slightly. Bellatrix glared when she saw his pace, and backhanded him firmly, the only time she hoped she would have to touch him, and reminded the waste of space of her previous threat. He slowed, tears rolling along his pale cheeks as he painstakingly picked each nail off with a slow determination. Satisfied, Bellatrix slowly brought her attention back to her first victim, nibbling on her lower lip, as she tried to think of a way to end him in an appropriately dramatic fashion. Finally, Bellatrix decided to go back to the beginning of his session. She continued to make his tongue grow, until it was bulging out of his mouth, no doubt blocking his throat. He slumped down on his side, wheezing, eyes bloodshot, and Bellatrix sighed. It would be over soon. With a slight grin, she crouched down in front of him, her breasts so very close to his face, and then pinched his nose to cut off all forms of breathing. His hands clutched at hers for only a few seconds, his grasp too weak to do much, and Bellatrix watched as the life slowly drained from his eyes. Within moments, his breathing stopped. A successful kill if she had ever seen one.

However, she still took a step back, her finger on her chin, and then slit his throat in one fell movement for good measure. Faintly in the background, she heard the Dark Lord applaud. Moving onto the other man, who was down to his last pinky nail, Bellatrix scoffed at him and kicked his wasted, broken and torn nails aside, her pale feet covered in the blood of her last victim. She grabbed both of the man's hands before her and held them up. Blood trailed down from the vacant nail slots, others were half torn and heavily bleeding. She frowned as it rolled down onto her hands, but she took it as war paint and moved on from the notion of Muggle blood on her. She was quite sure that because he was under her control magically, he wasn't feeling the full force of his pain. Therefore, to bring him in on the fun, Bellatrix removed her curse and stepped back, giggling madly as he began screaming profanities at her.

"Poor little Muggle," she mused, shaking her head. "Too stupid to understand what's happening. Not to fear… I'll make it stop soon."

He spat at her, clearly unable to string a coherent sentence together, and Bellatrix decided he wasn't going to get an easy way out. While his companion may have been tortured for longer, Bellatrix considered the suffocation something of a merciful kill. This one would see no mercy. Her gaze hardening, Bellatrix stood up, drew her body to its full height, and slowly flicked her wand at random spots on his body. His bare skin exploded in blood blisters, popping for as long as she kept her wand there. The man shrieked and writhed under the touch, his hands lashing out at the air in an attempt to fend her off. Too stupid to understand magic. Typical. The chain around his neck barely gave him enough room to scramble away, and Bellatrix pushed him over harshly with her foot. He collapsed onto his back, crying out most unbecomingly, and Bellatrix took the opportunity to crawl up his body, careful not to actually touch him. Her breasts dangled dangerously close, but only just felt the wet front of his bloodstained shirt. She grabbed his chin with one hand, and then dragged the dark lord's want harshly down his cheeks, leaving another red trail in her wake. Finally, when the screaming became too much, she slit his throat violently, blood spouting up across her naked form in an intricate pattern.

Suddenly, she felt herself hauled off the slowly dying body and thrown to the ground. Her eyes widened in shock, but they relaxed only slightly when Voldemort's lips rammed down to hers, his arousal evident as he steadied himself between her legs. She realized as his hands slid over her body, which was slick with Muggle blood, that this little show had been as much a gift for him as it had been for her. He really could be greedy, her lover, but never when it came to this. Whatever he gave her when he fucked her was _always_ more than enough. Bellatrix moaned heatedly as his lips slid down her neck, teeth biting into flesh randomly. She heard the Muggle weakly insult her with what she perceived as his dying breaths, but she was already too far gone in a craze of lust to even comprehend what he said. Instead, she quickly helped rid Voldemort of his trousers. Their breathing ran ragged quickly, and Bellatrix cried out when he thrust completely into her. She was slick with blood and arousal, both from her kills and from him.

He took her roughly on the floor, her back grinding into the warm blood as his cool, rain-soaked cloak enveloped her from the front. She reached up to run her hands through his hair, but he caught her wrists before she was able to and forced them down. It was painful, but Bellatrix felt her stomach knot in contentment, and she tensed herself to him, deepening the pleasure for both. His breath was hot against the skin of her neck, and although she wanted nothing more than to turn her head to the side and kiss him, she refrained. He wouldn't want it. Kissing was foreplay, and normally Bellatrix assumed he did it for her benefit. She slowly started to feel her body ache, both from his harsh thrusts and the hard stone floor beneath her. However, Bellatrix still felt like she was in Heaven. He suddenly released one wrist and took hold of a clump of her hair as he rolled them over. Her legs steadied as she sat up, his hands digging into her hips as his rolled upward, setting the pace. Bellatrix leaned forward, hair and blood trailing from her to him, and finally let herself kiss him as he rammed upward at an alarming pace.

Much to her pleasure, he let the kiss happen, their rhythm natural and perfect. Her hands cupped his face in a need to enjoy every moment of it. He suddenly grasped her hair again, his pace erratic, and she knew that it wouldn't last much longer. So, she deepened the kiss, her fingers knotted in his thick hair until he finally pulled away, hissing her name heatedly as his hips stilled.

"My lord," she purred delicately, running her tongue along the side of his neck, pausing when she felt his pulse racing. His fingers finally dragged themselves from the grooves he made in her hips, and she felt him trail them lightly up her back.

"You've soiled my outfit," he told her hoarsely. She grinned.

"You've soiled me."

"I think I did that long ago," he sighed as she planted a soft kiss on his cheek. "I certainly soiled you for your beloved."

She paused and sat up, "Who?"

"Your darling husband?"

Bellatrix barely contained a loud snort, and then rolled her eyes, "Don't be ridiculous-"

"You have affection for him, Bella," he chastised, arching an eyebrow at her. "I always swore I would never take you as a married woman."

"He cheated first," Bellatrix informed him with a shrug. "I look at it as permission to have my own affair."

Both eyebrows shot up at that revelation, and he pushed from hair out of her face, "Regardless, you should still be the dutiful Pureblood wife… It makes me want to ruin you over and over again."

Her heart raced as she smiled, "I suppose I'll do my best in my wifely chores."

"That also means you should go home to him," he insisted. "It's been long enough. He's horribly distracted without you."

"Can't have that, can we?" she mused, kissing him lazily one last time. "Are you kicking me out?"

"Rightfully so, Mrs. Lestrange."

The name seemed foul coming from his lips, but she wasn't one to suddenly spoil the mood. Instead, she had a better idea.

"Give me your cloak as a parting gift," she demanded, pushing it off his shoulders a little. "I want to wear something home."

He chuckled and finally sat up, neither bothering to mention that she was caked in blood and the aftermath of their sex, "Good night, Mrs. Lestrange."

"My lord," she grinned, accepting the cloak and wrapping it around her body. She stumbled out of the dungeon, leaving him on the floor, and quickly located her wand back his bedroom. Nagini stirred when she entered, but only to lick the air and hiss lightly at her before she apparated away.

Bellatrix arrived home in a mess. As she strolled through her foyer, she ignored the house elf that came to greet her, and sauntered up the same stairwell she tumbled down only a week or so ago. Her name echoed from downstairs, and she heard Rodolphus clambering up the stairs after her. However, she felt no twinge of fury, nor a desire to slice him into little bits and pieces. She had done that already. It was over, finally.

"Bellatrix," he called, his voice a little strained. "Where have you been? Narcissa and I were really worried that you'd hurt…"

He trailed off when she turned around, wrapped in the Dark Lord's cloak, blood on her face, evidence of her indiscretion dripping down her thighs. He swallowed thickly, and then cleared his throat, "Where were you, a sacrifice?"

"Consider us even, husband," she told him, the usual tone she took with him back in her voice. He must have realized where she was, but she barely stuck around to watch the hurt show on his face. She needed a very long bath, and then sleep.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Good grief this took a long time to write. Almost two weeks of staring at this and it is FINALLY finished. It's really what a Bellamort romance ought to be, no? Poor Rodolphus. I really do feel for the guy. This seems to do well in my polls, so you can expect more regular updates!**

**Love love love for all my reviewers!**


	12. So heartless

Something felt wrong. He seemed different. Bellatrix knew in her heart that something had changed the man she loved, because only a week after their passionate overnighter, he almost vanished within himself. It was so remarkable and frightening. Naturally, he could do as he pleased. This wouldn't be the first time that her lord and master demanded time to himself, but something felt different about it this time. He was on edge. All of their meetings usually ended with someone tortured for the most insignificant failing. Naturally, he ought to punish people who failed, but there were times when even Bellatrix wanted to question the extent to which he broke his servants. He hadn't called her back to him. Whenever she dropped by unannounced, he was never home, and rumours circulated that he was spending a great deal of time traveling the United Kingdom, searching for something. Bellatrix was privy to far more private information than many, and she was unwilling to listen to mere gossip about the man she loved, but when he barely gave her anything to go off of, what other choice did she have? He had become too distant for her liking, and every time she was near him, hidden beneath her mask, she felt a terrible longing to reach out and touch him, taste him, and beg to be let into his world once more.

The rest of her world felt decidedly normal, which was on the equivalence of boring. She and Rodolphus had quickly become what they were before her accident; complacent partners in a marriage. When she told him they were even, she meant it. Her hatred of him lessened, and she permitted him to share her bed once more, though was exceptionally snarky when he tried to initiate any kind of intimacy. As if he had earned that right. Ha. In a way, Bellatrix felt highly superior to her husband in many ways. Although he had fucked some skinny bitch from his office, he certainly didn't love her. Unfortunately, Bellatrix was far too aware of his love for her, which almost made it pathetic compared to her great love and desire for the Dark Lord. Rodolphus could pine all he wished, but he was never going to earn a place in her heart after the stunt he pulled. She tolerated him. He was clever, witty, and always knew how to make her smile darkly with his own twisted sort of humour. In some lights, he was even attractive, but he paled considerably whenever she compared him directly to her lover. He was brilliant. The Dark Lord was everything that Rodolphus could never be, and she wondered when he would come to accept that. It was starting to become tiresome whenever he attempted to woo her back to bed after a glass or two of wine at dinner.

However, despite his pathetic failed attempts at romance, Rodolphus proved to be a fine match for her in darker circles. Although it bothered her, they were often put together when the Dark Lord had an assignment, and they performed exemplary work. The mask held her distaste for her husband well, a permanent frown on her lips whenever the Dark Lord insisted that the Lestranges, plural, see to a stakeout or quiet murder of a politician… or the horrible gruesome murder of a Muggle family. There were others that she knew sat well with her master, but Bellatrix was quite aware of the Lestrange family status among his followers. Unfortunately, that meant Rodolphus too. A small part of her hoped that the Dark Lord would find a way to punish her husband for making her feel so terrible inside, but he didn't. He was still invited to meetings, both public and private. The Dark Lord greeted him with the same aloof tone he used with Bella when everyone else was around, and punished them both equally for a folly. It was almost frustrating, but she knew everything that her master did had a purpose. Perhaps he decided that simply having an affair with a man's wife was enough to punish him.

Unfortunately, there hadn't been much of an affair as of late. Although, just because the physical aspects had cooled certainly didn't mean that Bellatrix had stopped emotionally involving herself with the man. Never again would her heart, love, or desires belong to the man who had a ring on her finger. For now, it was an emotional affair. The Dark Lord had her mind, body and soul. She only hoped that, in time, she might have something of his that could be considered somewhat equal to everything she gave him.

Maybe he could get them uniforms that didn't itch like mad. Bellatrix grunted softly under her breath as she tried desperately to seem like one of the mass of masked Death Eaters, but the itch on her back was making it almost impossible. To make matters worse, her thick gloves concealed her nails wonderfully, and wearing nothing beneath the damn robe seemed like one of her less bright ideas. However, she had hoped that once the meeting was over, she might be able to catch the Dark Lord before he left and entice him into another romp in a graveyard. After all, it had been rather thrilling the last time.

"Bellatrix," her husband hissed softly, nudging her with his elbow. "Stop fidgeting."

"Piss off," she snapped, finally reaching some sort of happy spot as she rubbed her gloved thumb against her back, willing her lengthy, perfectly pointed nail to break through the material and give her some relief. She heard Lucius chuckle on her other side, his characteristic laugh the only thing giving him away.

With a roll of her eyes, Bellatrix glanced at the graveyard's majestic clock; he had kept them waiting for almost an hour. It wasn't as though she objected to the Dark Lord being late, but it was the middle of summer, and on top of these dratted cloaks being terribly itchy, they were a little too thick, even for English weather. Mind you, they weren't in England. He had summoned them to a desolated graveyard outside a Muggle village in Wales, which, when they arrived, had been completely desecrated. She assumed it was his handiwork, but she was quite curious to know what caused him to lose his temper and massacre an entire village. On their way through, she and Rodolphus poked their heads into shattered windows of homes and noted that there were only a few dead bodies, while the rest may have been burned in a fire thriving in the town square.

Although they hadn't been directly summoned to the graveyard, Bellatrix decided that was where they should meet with him. Everyone else wandered for a bit, searching for their master, and eventually joined her there. Although no one said it, she was sure they all knew Bellatrix was the one who knew their master best. Mind you, there might have been a few who believed they were at an elevated status, but they were only deluding themselves into such a ridiculous fantasy.

"Maybe he isn't coming…"

Bellatrix glared in the direction of the ridiculous individual who dared question the Dark Lord's tardiness, and then scoffed loudly enough for them all to hear. There were only about eight members present, his inner circle, and she guessed the voice belonged to that idiot Goyle fellow her husband seemed intent on keeping some sort of friendship with. She certainly didn't care who he was acquainted with, but when he suggested the pair head over to the Goyles one night for drinks with the man and his wife, Bellatrix nearly slammed her fork into his hand. Since then, he has smartly kept such absurd suggestions to himself.

"Should we leave?"

"We will wait _days_ for the Dark Lord," Bellatrix snapped loudly, "or do you find your loyalty fading? I'll be sure to tell him if that's the case!"

"Now, now, Bella, there's no need for that."

The tension among the masks was delicious as they turned back to see their master strolling toward them, a decidedly neutral expression on his face.

"Lord Voldemort knows who is faithful, and who is simply impatient," he informed them as they all bowed. He swept through the group, each member parting to allow him to pass. Through the wide, dark sockets of her mask, Bellatrix willed him to look at her. Touch her. Anything. However, he simply carried on to the front of the small crowd, his cloak billowing in the breeze. She wrinkled her nose when she felt something push her aside into her husband, and glared at Fenrir Greyback as he hauled two rather bloodied wizards along. He deposited them at the Dark Lord's feet, and then looked up expectantly. Her master, meanwhile, studied the ground in front of him, and dismissed him with a wave of his hand. Only when the werewolf trotted away did he give him any attention, which seemed immensely pleasing to Bella.

The creature had been so reluctant to give up his power as the head of his half-breed pack of wolves, and yet less than a year later he sniveled at her master's heels like a dog. He saw the Dark Lord's power and knew it was the right side to choose. They all did. It was only a matter of time before the weak and strong succumbed to him.

"I'm sure you are all wondering what happened to the village," the Dark Lord sighed, gesturing back to the smoldering remains with a half-hearted wave. "Those who betray us must be punished."

One of the men at his feet sobbed, making Bella wrinkle her nose in distaste. The other simply shook, curled up in a fetal position at her master's feet, staring into nothing. They both looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't recall a name. Not that she knew everyone, but the people that mattered tended to stick out in her mind.

"Clarence Barrows and Finn Phillips were two men who slowly leaked information about our suppliers in Dublin to the Ministry," the Dark Lord informed them.

Bellatrix clenched fists, instantly enraged. How _dare_ someone do that? While many of the Death Eaters were well-funded by their families, there seemed to be fewer than she initially thought, and the Dark Lord was shrewd enough to set up illegal dealings with all sorts of shady, but well-supplied, merchants around the United Kingdom and Ireland. They were necessary to get large orders of goods to account for all the new members. However, if their suppliers were arrested because of their association with the Dark Lord, they would struggle to combat both the Ministry and the pesky Order of the Phoenix that had sprung up frequently in her dealings.

"They sought refuge in this very village," he continued, gesturing to it once more, "and the people took them in. A dear friend of mine insisted they were praised for their stealth… for the ingenious way they cheated the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. There was a celebration for their heroism… their bravery. Was there not?"

He poked the weeping man with his foot, who merely sobbed harder in return. Pitiful. Bellatrix scoffed loudly in disbelief, hoping he heard.

"Betrayers are punished," the Dark Lord murmured as he took a step back from the men. His eyes shot up, bright like electricity, and spread his arms, "Who would like to punish them?"

Travers spoke first, followed by a chorus of other voices. Bellatrix said nothing. Instead, she shoved passed the man in front of her and pointed her wand directly at the pathetic sobbing man, her curse landing directly at his side. He howled his pain, arching back as her might ravaged his body. The others took it as a cue, and within seconds several other Death Eaters had joined her, while the remainder worked on his friend. She wasn't a fan of group torture sessions, preferring to take the credit for herself whenever a person broke under a wand. However, the look of sheer glee on her master's face was enough to keep her complacent as she and three others tortured the traitor into oblivion.

Finally, the Dark Lord stepped in, calling them off to deliver the final killing stroke to both men. She felt arousal stir. He was so masterful, so brilliant, so perfect… He was also, surely, sending a message to the members of his inner circle. Should someone be stupid enough to betray him, everyone would turn on them, and in a matter of minutes they would cease to exist.

"Keep an ear out for dissent," he said softly, each Death Eater surely straining to hear. "The Ministry is frightened of me. Their lies are spreading fear of the wrong sort to people who once swore loyalty. All traitors are equal. Remember."

He looked everyone in the eye as he spoke, easily navigating through the masks he no doubt knew well, and then gave a final nod. It was dismissive, and she already felt people fanning out around her.

"Severus," he called. "A moment."

She watched as the Dark Lord turned away and sauntered into the depths of the graveyard, pausing to examine an inscription on a headstone. A lithe figure glided out from the group, and she knew it was Snape. Several others around her were removing their masks to prepare for their travels. Lips pursed, she pulled off her hood unceremoniously and removed her mask. Rodolphus did the same beside her, but she bypassed him and hurried after the Dark Lord, overtaking Snape in the process.

He must have heard her heavy footsteps, because he paused and turned around, his charismatic eyes finding hers quickly. Her lips trembled as she closed in on him, hoping that he could sense what she was after. However, he merely stared down at her, and then sighed, "Are _you_ Severus Snape?"

She blinked in surprise, taken aback by the annoyance in his tone, and then frowned, "No, my lord-"

"Then if I am not mistaken, you were dismissed."

Bella stood in front of him still, unable to leave, and she took a deep breath, "My lord, it's been so long-"

"Lestrange," he barked, making her flinch, "please collect your wife."

That breath hitched in her throat almost painfully, but he seemed to avoid any more direct eye contact with her. An arm curled around her waist, and she felt Rodolphus tug her away, "Of course, my lord. Have a pleasant evening."

Her feet were like cinder blocks when he dragged her away, and only after Snape had joined the Dark Lord did she finally manage to walk on her own. How… How could he say something like that? He wasn't one to put on an act for anyone, and yet there he was, admonishing her in a way that truly hurt her being.

"Get off me," she snarled suddenly, shoving her husband away from her. "You're embarrassing me."

He scoffed loudly as he grabbed hold of her arm and hauled her away from their apparating point, "I'm embarrassing you? Bellatrix, you should see yourself! Fawning over him, running after him… Any thought of what it looks like for me?"

"I don't care," she replied angrily. "Let go!"

Much to her surprise, she found them in front of a tomb, the cracked doorway slightly ajar. Before she could really put her foot down, he shoved her through the small opening. Bellatrix stumbled forward a little, her boots unsteady on the gravel. One lone stone coffin inhabited the rather ostentatious tomb, but it seemed that the decay of time won in the end. Parts of the roof had already fallen in, and she kicked a piece of rubble irritably.

"You should care about what it looks like to the rest of them," he snapped at her suddenly, his grip now pinching her arm again. "They talk… We should be united, not weakened by your willingness to bed another man!"

"Don't talk about it like I climb onto anyone that walks by," she sneered, eyes narrowing. "I thought we had come to an understanding on this matter."

"I am compliant with your… desire to serve him," Rodolphus hissed. "I haven't said a word about what you deign necessary to do on your own time, but when we are in front of _them_, we should be a team!"

"I don't want to be on your team," she cooed, her eyes glinting dangerously in the beam of moonlight.

"You should."

"Why?"

"Because that's what marriage made us," he half-shouted, hands thrown up in the air in exasperation as he stalked away from her.

"Don't spout your marriage nonsense as if it applies to us," she barked. "We both know it doesn't."

He stormed across the empty tomb and took hold of both arms, giving her a bit of a shake. She cocked an eyebrow, bored, and then sighed, "Is there something else you want to add? I think I'll go home and take a bath if you're finished..."

"And stew over tonight's rejection?"

Her jaw dropped a little, but before she could get her biting retort out, Rodolphus dipped his head down and pressed his lips firmly against hers. Eyes wide, Bellatrix squealed beneath the pressure of them, a pair of lips that almost felt unfamiliar having steered clear of them for so long. He made a move to deepen the kiss, altering the pressure for brief second in an attempt to press her further. However, a hard, swift kick to the shins managed to get him off, and she stumbled back as though physically repulsed by him.

"You can't blame me, can you?" he asked, panting a little. "We always had _fantastic_ angry sex."

Although she wished it hadn't, the memory of some of their more sordid past dalliances tugged at her arousal once again. However, it was quite easy to suppress, and with a glare, she stalked away and out of the tomb. In the distance, she spotted the Dark Lord and Snape speaking together still. All feelings of anger toward Rodolphus faded, and she felt an immense sadness take their place. How could he push her away for this long? And why was he so interested in Snape as of late? This wasn't the first time he had beckoned the young man to him after a meeting, and it was starting to grate her nerves.

She planned to make the little boy talk, one way or another. Therefore, with her incident with her husband completely banished from her mind, she shot Snape a grin before leaving the graveyard, plans formulating quickly.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**So this wasn't how the chapter was originally supposed to end, but I decided to rework it after I came to the conclusion this story needs to be longer. I originally planned to end it in about three chapters, but I've changed my mind. So it'll be longer now! Sorry for the lengthy update lags between chapters. The muse is SO hit and miss with this story… sometimes it's there when I start writing, and leaves about twenty minutes in. Fail. **

**Anywho. I'm fairly sure people can guess what time period this is happening in based on Voldemort's behaviour. I'm also pretty sure I majorly messed up the timeline in the original story, **_**Lovers in a Dangerous Time**_**, and therefore the ages and whatnot don't quite fit. I'm trying to work around it the best I can. **

**HAPPY NEW YEAR TO YOU ALL! Love, love, love!**


	13. Dominance

Her nails dug into the wood of her dining room table, her face pressed against the cool surface. Bellatrix sighed as her husband thrust deeply into her, his fingers bruising her hips, his breath hot on her neck.

She had finally given in. It wasn't that Bellatrix had forgiven Rodolphus, or accepted him as anything more than he was, but Bellatrix decided she could participate in marital intercourse for the sake of some peace around the house. After all, it wasn't terrible. They had always been evenly matched partners in the past, and even after their incident, it seemed nothing had really changed. Bellatrix was, however, less interested in the actual physical act of sex with Rodolphus than she was with the foreplay. That was more enjoyable than any sort of angle, thrust, position, and speed that the man could offer. Foreplay was the time where she reined queen. It usually started on the tail-end of a fight. Sometimes it was overly physical, but neither of them cared about the marks on their aristocratic skin the next day. Foreplay was fun. She could dominate, hit, and acceptably bite as hard as she wished. Her husband indulged her because she knew he wanted to make her happy. He also bent her over the dining room table because he thought it was what she wanted. Although he wasn't a tender man, she was fairly sure he would have been just as happy having plain, boring sex in the bedroom, but he took her roughly on obscure surfaces around their home because he thought it made her happy.

It didn't. It made him happy and it kept Bellatrix's life at home on something steady rather than fragile. As much as Bellatrix enjoyed the chaos she brought on the outside world, she decided shortly after an explosive fight with her husband, and an abrupt, painful dismissal by her lover, that it was better to have some sort peace in her life. Somewhere, there ought to be quiet and complacency and it might as well be with the man who would happily live in that environment with her. After all, the Dark Lord had yet to take her back, despite her longing and silent begging whenever they were near one another.

She came to the conclusion early on that it didn't have anything to do with her. If he was upset with her in some way, he would have made it perfectly clear both publically and privately. However, they hadn't been alone in almost a month, and whenever she tried to surprise him, he was out of his home. The place was disintegrating, the wear and tear more obvious with each visit, and she wondered if he bothered to use it as anything more than a storage space. He seldom went along with them anymore on assignments either, so the chances of seeing him were remote. Bella wasn't the only one who had noticed it. There were several in the inner circle who commented on his absence, but that accompanied by an irritable mood whenever he was there meant no one dared question the strangeness.

There was one among them who knew. Severus Snape seemed to be the favourite lately, and whenever Bellatrix saw him, she wanted to rip that sallow skin off his sickly little face. It was infuriating to know that he was privy to information she was not, and as the weeks passed by with no word from her lover, she decided to find out on her own.

A hand suddenly locked around her hair, and Bellatrix gasped somewhat involuntarily as Rodolphus yanked her head back, lips pressed to her neck. He was almost finished. She could tell by the pace, the way his hips jerked a little more now, the way he panted heavily… He lasted much longer now, though she wasn't sure if that was good or not. At first, it had been such a long time since they had engaged in any sort of physical intimacy that he was done in a matter of minutes. However, as the bi-weekly, sometimes more, event became routine, he had built up his stamina again. Sometimes it was a pain, other times she relaxed and let her body enjoy the occasional pleasurable tingle. She never finished. Not anymore. Maybe if she put some effort into it she might, but Bella wasn't about to do that for him.

He groaned her name into her neck, his free arm wrapped tight around her clothed body, until finally he relaxed, his breathing even again. Bellatrix straightened up and cracked her neck noisily, then pushed him off. Her husband sprawled back on the dining room table, a pleased smile on his face as she straightened out her maroon dress.

"Care to join me for a shower?" he asked, lazily nudging her with a limp hand, "Maybe we can have a second round? We haven't shagged in the shower in ages."

"No."

"Why not?" he demanded as she marched across the large dining room, her heels clacking noisily.

"Believe it or not, I have other things to do tonight besides you," she sniffed, glancing back at him down her nose. "Shower by yourself."

He sat up, slipping his pants back on, and then frowned at her, "Are you going to see him? Look, Bella, he doesn't see anyone these days-"

"I know," she half-shouted, eyes flashing dangerously. "I'm not going to see him. I'm going out."

"Where?"

"It's none of your business."

"Bellatrix," he called, following her out a little awkwardly as he no doubt readjusted himself, "I have a right to know."

"Do I need your permission to go anywhere?" she demanded venomously, pausing only to turn back and give him the dirtiest glare she could muster. He shook his head, and she rolled her eyes, "Good. I don't care where you go because I trust you enough not to care. Do me the same courtesy, will you?"

He sighed, but finally his footsteps stopped following her. Free from his watchful, wounded eyes, Bellatrix popped into a spare lavatory in the first floor to freshen up a little, and then snapped at her house elf to find her black cloak. Moments later, the creature was at her side, she had slipped into it, and vanished from her home.

Where she ended up wasn't a place she would normally haunt. Spinner's End, the known habitat of Severus Snape, was located in the pitiful town of Cokeworth. The houses were grey and boring, and whenever she had been there before, it was always pouring. It seemed like all the precipitation in the entire nation huddled around this one area. Why Snape wouldn't just take up any number of offers by her brother-in-law to let him buy the man a new house was beyond her. It certainly couldn't be a sentimental place. As far as she was aware, it was his childhood home, and nothing good ever came from that.

Now, she couldn't remember which of the hovels belonged to Severus. So, she wandered up and down the lane for some time, peeking in windows and judging from the decay of the gardens which might suit him the most. Eventually, she settled for one on the very end of a set of attached homes. The garden was absolutely miserable, with only weeds lapping up the rain water. She knew he would be home. It was late August, and dearest Severus wouldn't have to return to his position at Hogwarts until September. She paused in front of it, arched an eyebrow, and then poked her head around the front window. Unfortunately, the curtains blocked her view of the innards of the house. She drew up her hood and returned to the rough wooden door, knocking loudly several times to the point her knuckles hurt.

No light flickered on in the darkened house, but Bellatrix could have sworn she saw some sort of rustling by the curtains. She knocked again, and just as she dug into her cloak to retrieve her wand, the door opened about two inches. Snape's beady eyes and pale skin shone in the darkness, and she cleared her throat noisily, "Are you just going to make me stand out here in this weather and catch my death?"

"I sense, Bellatrix," Snape drawled, opening the door a touch more, "that it would take much more than some rain to take you from us."

She shoved her way up the steps and against the door, but it seemed some sort of Muggle lock kept her from pushing in entirely.

"Snape, open the fucking door," she snapped, her eyes narrowing at him. "I'm here for a social visit. I know you might be unsure about how to handle visitors, as they're a rare occurrence-"

"All right, all right, all right," he muttered, making a great show of unhooking several locks on the inside. "Just stop talking."

Bella grinned a little as she slipped inside. This was her first trip to the man's home, and as she shoved her discarded cloak into his hands, she realized it felt much more invasive than she had imagined. Severus Snape was one of the most elusive, private, and odd men she knew. Sometimes she thought he was a seedy little rat, and other times, when they worked together, she labeled him a competent Death Eater and dangerous man. Perhaps that was what put her on edge about him of all people; she had no idea who he truly was.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this _social visit_?" Snape inquired as Bellatrix started poking around the first floor of his home.

It was what she expected. For the most part, things seemed in slight disarray. The kitchen was basically empty, aside from the absolute necessities. No photos on the walls. The rooms were small and drab, though it was fairly clear that the one lined with books, wall to wall, with several fairly worn chairs was where the younger man spent most of his time. That was where they stopped. Bellatrix had yet to answer him. Instead, it seemed clear that she was intent on seeing every part of his small home before they settled into anything. He followed in silence, hands clasped behind his back, until he finally took a seat on one of the worn chairs. Bella's nose wrinkled as a bit of dust fluffed off unceremoniously.

"Have a seat, Bellatrix," he offered, pointing to the chair across from him. She snorted loudly.

"I'd rather stand."

"Suit yourself," he shrugged, rummaging in his pocket for something. "Smoke?"

That was what she smelt in the air. Cigarette smoke. Her fingers twitched. Merlin, when was the last time she had indulged in a smoke? She hesitated to take it from him, but eventually gave it, snatching the stick from his outstretched hand quickly. He offered to light it for her too, but she used her own wand to see to that, inhaling the sweet deliciousness that came with the first breath of a new cigarette.

"Can I assume the edge is gone now?" he inquired, arching an eyebrow at her as he relaxed into his chair, one leg resting on the other lazily. Bella shrugged, blowing a large puff of smoke in his general direction. He sighed, and she could have sworn he rolled his eyes, "Bellatrix, as much as I enjoy your silence, it's only polite to tell me why you're here."

"Now who's on edge, Severus?" she trilled, smirking a little as she continued to happily puff away on her cigarette. "I wanted to discuss something with you."

"Oh? What have I done to earn this honour?"

"You've wormed your way into a coveted position."

He stiffened, and the air between them instantly changed. She paced back and forth in front of him, until she finally finished her cigarette and tossed the butt in the extinguished fireplace.

"Bellatrix-"

"Somehow, despite the fact you never speak up at meetings, you've become one of his favourites," she started. "You've had so many little meetings with him about something important. That something is bothering him immensely, and I demand to know what it entails."

His eyebrows shot up, and he continued to smoke in silence. Bellatrix, however, was in no mood for his lack of responses to her demands, and she planted her hands on her hips.

"I'm concerned, Severus."

"If the Dark Lord has not informed you of our discussions, why should I make you privy to them?"

"I am only asking because of my worry-"

"The Dark Lord is a grown man," Severus interjected, making her glare. "He can look after himself."

"Sometimes every man needs a little extra help, even if they don't realize it."

"Do you doubt him?"

"Of course not!" she snapped, taking a few steps toward him, "He is the most… He knows what he is doing, but he refuses to tell me."

"Why should you know?"

The look on his face indicated some sort of mockery in his question, and she resisted the urge to rake her nails across his face. Instead, she took a deep breath, keeping her composure in a way that he ought to give her some credit for.

"He and I share many things," Bellatrix ground out, "and if something is troubling him as much as it is, I have a right to know."

"Have you discussed this with him?" he inquired, finally finishing his cigarette. He tossed the wasted butt on a pile nearby, his head cocked to the side. "I wouldn't dare bring up our private conversation with anyone he does not deign to also share it with."

Her lip twitched, and finally she snapped. Forgoing all sense of decency, Bellatrix stormed across the space between them and climbed onto his lap, the tip of her wand pressed to his throat. His body felt stiff, but he seemed to keep something a calm expression on his features.

"If you won't give up the information voluntarily, I know how to force it out of you," she snarled. "Piece by piece, you _will_ tell me everything you and the Dark Lord have spoken about lately. If you think you've seen me at my best when I make Muggle men weep… That will be _nothing_!"

He glanced down at her wand, and then met her eyes. Her snarl was evident as she pressed the wand into his neck sharply. Before she could get the curse out, something shifted. His hands suddenly dragged her close to him, and he lifted her off the chair, slamming them both to the ground. The jolt loosened her grip on her wand and he managed to knock it away before she could regain the upper-hand position.

"Let me tell you, Lestrange," he growled, a hand slipping up between them and latching into her neck. The air slowly compressed upward, and she struggled to breathe, "If you think you deserve to know the Dark Lord's business, then say it to him yourself. Just because you frequently inhabit his bed doesn't make you privileged to know every detail of the man's life."

She gasped angrily, jabbing her wand as hard as she could into his side, using it as a physical weapon rather than a magical one. He barely seemed to notice, and merely shifted his weight about so that he was situated between her legs, keeping him safe from her attempts at kicking.

"Threaten me all you want," he continued dangerously. "I welcome a challenge from the great Bellatrix Lestrange."

He tilted his head down, his ear close to her mouth. Bellatrix tried to spit something at him, but his thumb pressed hard into her windpipe, and she was starting to see white spots in front of her eyes. It seemed as though he was waiting for something to come back at his taunt, but she couldn't get anything out. A fire raged inside her. She wanted to gauge his eyes out. She wanted to cut his tongue off. She wanted to pin his ears to his head. Unfortunately, all she could do was focus on staying conscious.

"That's what I thought," he purred. She glared up at him, eyes bulging more than usual as the weight of his body pressed down on her hips. Despite the position, nothing about it felt sexual. It was all about the power in the situation, and much to her disgust, he had all of it. When her eyes were finally rolling back in her head, he released her and pushed himself off the floor. She lay there, gasping, a hand on her throat. He pulled out another cigarette and settled back into his chair.

Dignity thoroughly bruised, and possibly her throat too, Bellatrix rose to her feet shakily. He held out his packet of cigarettes toward her, offering her a second. She slapped it away angrily and stormed out of the house. Perhaps Severus had a point. If someone had come to her and tried to tarnish her loyalty to her master, she would have killed them on the spot. Perhaps choking her was quite reserved… If she really needed to know, she ought to see her lover and find out his problems on her own. She would have to catch him at some point, after all. He couldn't be out of his home forever, and when she explained why she needed to know what was bothering him, he was bound to understand.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**No, Bella, I'm sure he won't. Delusional much?**

**Anywho. I once read a Bellatrix/Snape story that was super interesting, and while I don't think I would ever pair them together, I find writing their relationship immensely fun. **


	14. You hurt me so bad

Bellatrix was more on edge than ever. Any slight mistakes Rodolphus made resulted in a screaming match. The house elf had been set on fire dozens of time in the past week, only to be rescued by darling husband at the last moment. The thing's memory had been modified so many times that it was getting quite pointless, and Bella wished she could just kill it. Unfortunately, the creature was a relic of the Lestrange family, and Rodolphus vehemently put his foot down that it was not to be harmed during one of her bursts of rage.

As if he could stop her.

She left Snape's in a horrible mood, and only satiated her fury by slaughtering the family who lived next door. Hopefully they had been on good terms with Snape, and he would take their death on as a form of guilt. He had caused it, after all. The wife, husband and children were all strewn around the house, disfigured and almost completely unrecognizable, because Severus fucking Snape wanted to keep his little mouth shut on his business with the Dark Lord. Most would admire him for it, but Bellatrix felt a distinct betrayal that would remain for years after the incident. Who was he to keep something like this from her? It was important. The Dark Lord was preoccupied, even obsessed, with something, and it was eating Bellatrix alive to not know what it would be. Had she not proven her worth? Had she not earned the right to know something if it was so instrumental to the man's wellbeing? Of course she had. Bellatrix had earned her battle scars, and she had risen higher than anyone in the ranks. She knew she was the best. There were other women, and none of them found a spot in her master's bed. Not now, not ever.

Thinking about it sent her off into spirals of hate, throwing things about the house and insulting anything with a pulse. Rodolphus took the brunt of it, and for the better part of a week he endured her fits without retaliating. Finally, he did the one thing that he was sure would keep her calm; he summoned Narcissa. Her sister showed up on a bright Sunday morning, a scowl on her face at the wreck Bella's house had become, and dragged her out of bed. That was almost enough to start off one of her moods, but it was Narcissa. Bella had yet to ever let her baby sister become the target of true rage, so she took a few calming breaths, had a warm shower, and allowed her sister to take her over to the Malfoy Manor for lunch. It was, apparently, later than Bellatrix realized when she arrived. The sun was high over their pristine courtyard, and the last of Narcissa's summer garden greeted Bella cheerfully as she stalked behind her sister.

Narcissa was a vision in her off-white summer gown, cinched around her waist with loose sleeves to her elbows. She was the delicate image of a wife that every man desired. Bellatrix followed, her footsteps heavy and uncouth, robed entirely in black, despite the heat, and knew that was finally the complete opposite of her sister. Somehow, the angel of the Black family managed to keep her in line, and as Narcissa took her sister's traveling cloak and stuffed it into her house elf's grubby hands, Bella knew that her patience would be limited if she knew everything Bellatrix had done over the week.

"If you set Dobby on fire, you will have to buy me a new one," her sister informed her dangerously, holding up a warning finger in a way that made her look remarkably similar to their mother. Bella wrinkled her nose, and then sighed with a dramatic roll of her eyes.

"They are all replaceable."

"Not all are completely up to date with the running of my household," Narcissa fired back, her eyes narrowing a hint. "That is the only warning I will give you, Bella. Rodolphus has told me how you've been lately… I'll have none of it."

"Why do you think I would subject you to my mood swings?" Bellatrix inquired sweetly, wrapping an arm around Narcissa's slim waist as they sauntered toward the dining room, "You're the real love of my life, Cissy."

"Oh, Bella," her sister chided playfully, rolling her eyes in a manner that matched her own, "you really are the most confusing woman I've ever had the pleasure of knowing."

"Really?" Bella mused, cocking her head to the side, her dark black hair intermingling with her sister's loose blonde waves, "I had thought mother was worse than I."

"If you continue destroying your house, I think you might take her place," Narcissa muttered, shooting her a bit of a look. "So, to keep you from killing everyone you live with, I thought it would be best to get you out of the house for the day."

"Oh, Cissy, it's not them I'm cross with," Bellatrix groaned.

"Well, what is your issue then?" her sister demanded as they entered the dining hall. Bellatrix looked up to spot Lucius seated at the head of the table already with Draco in an ornate wooden highchair beside him. He looked up to acknowledge their presence, but seemed quite focused on keeping her nephew from dumping his drink on the floor.

"That can be a conversation for another time," she said dismissively. Naturally, she had no intention of telling her sister all the intimate details of her insanity, though she had a feeling that Narcissa knew more than she let on. Her younger sister had always been annoying observant, even if she pretended to be dumb as a post on occasion. The manipulative shrew always knew how to play her personas, unlike Bellatrix, who thought everyone should see her for what she truly was on _all_ occasions.

"Good afternoon, Bellatrix," Lucius greeted when she finally took a seat at his left, her sister settling into the chair at his right. He stopped fussing over Draco when his wife returned, and Bella watched her sister masterfully take over the situation by popping a cup topper on top of Draco's drink, and then letting him knock it about as he saw fit.

"Ingenious innovation, Cissy," Bellatrix grinned. "Who would have thought a toddler would need a lid on his drink?"

"He's normally quite good," Lucius grumbled irritably as he helped himself to a bowl of potato salad in front of him. "Is it safe to assume you've only just risen to join the rest of us?"

"I have the luxury to sleep in," Bellatrix retorted as she shot him a look. "If I didn't know any better, I would think that you're jealous… Those are awfully large bags under your eyes."

"Bella," Narcissa said sharply, clearly in no mood for fun and games today. Bellatrix made a show of pouting a little, and then helped herself to some pre-made sandwiches and vegetables.

A silence settled over the trio as they made up their lunch plates, and Bellatrix started to feel suspicious. Both of them looked quite tired, and she knew the blame couldn't be put on Draco alone. Something else was wrong in this marriage, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. While Narcissa looked beautiful in her summer dress, now that Bellatrix had a moment to examine her physical appearance, something was off. Her hair hung loose, there were bags under her eyes too, and her cheeks looked sunken. Had they been fighting? Bellatrix glanced back and forth between the pair and noticed neither was looking at the other. That had to be it. It wasn't even five years into their marriage, and already they were on edge with each other. Her parents had had a look like that for years, and it was actually a little surprising to see on a woman who desperately adored her husband. Perhaps a little counseling from Bella could set everything in order…

Leaning back in her seat, she studied her sister and her husband for another moment, and then pursed her lips, "Are you two still having sex?"

Her sister glared heatedly at her as Lucius choked on his drink. He set his cup down and coughed a few times into his napkin, but she could tell he was glaring at her too. She shrugged her shoulders, "What?"

Narcissa looked pointedly down at her son, who was happily stuffing some mashed goop into his mouth, and Bellatrix rolled her eyes, "Oh, he doesn't even know what we're talking about."

"That's hardly appropriate table conversation," Lucius ground out coldly, "or any of your business."

"You both look awful," Bellatrix argued. "Something is wrong here-"

"And that's the first thing that came to your mind?" Narcissa demanded, shaking her head at her angrily, "Do you have no boundaries, Bellatrix, or do you just not care?"

"I'm expressing my concern," Bellatrix said simply, popping a carrot in her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully for a moment, "After all, that's usually the first thing to go in a marriage."

"I don't even know why I bothered to bring you over here," her sister snapped, throwing her napkin down on the table dramatically. "Something is clearly wrong with _you_ if you don't even have the decency to maintain a normal conversation with your family."

"I didn't mean for it to be insulting," Bella quipped, her frustration tickling the back of her throat. "It was the first thing that came to mind!"

"Five minutes into lunch and you've already managed to ruin it," Narcissa spat, pushing herself away from the table and rising to her feet. Bella stared at her, jaw ajar, as her sister stormed out their ridiculously large dining hall. Draco suddenly seemed to sense the tension, and he emitted a pitiful whimper at the departure of his mother. Lucius responded by peeling his sandwich apart and setting the bread in front of the boy, who was immediately distracted.

"You really are a piece of work sometimes, Bellatrix."

"What?" Bellatrix demanded, "I just wanted to know-"

"We are facing inquiries from the Ministry," Lucius said sharply, cutting her off. "They've been investigating allegations made by some recently arrested Death Eaters who have named me… It's been going on for about three weeks, and it has your sister in quite a state."

Bellatrix blinked, stunned at the actual situation, "Who would name you?"

"None of us are kind to the underlings," he mused, shaking his head a little. "A few boys from Brighton were arrested last month, and then the Ministry showed up at my door. I… I've done my best to pay off everyone I can, but they seemed set on making an example of me."

"Why hasn't she told me?" Bella demanded, glancing back to the door where Narcissa had disappeared into, "I could help-"

"We both know you would only make it worse," Lucius insisted. His voice dropped lower, "Severus told me recently of your… visit. Are you losing your mind?"

"That's none of your business," she sneered, and he scoffed at her.

"Funny you should say that…"

Bellatrix was only half-listening. Why hadn't Narcissa told her? This was something that was clearly important to her home life, and yet she kept it to herself. It couldn't have been that she didn't want to worry Bella. After all, Bellatrix did far more things in her spare time that Narcissa ought to be worried over. An investigation from the Ministry was serious, but not to the point where they ought to lose sleep over it.

"The Dark Lord would never let them arrest you," she told her brother-in-law with the highest level of certainty. Then, as if that settled the issue, she resumed eating her lunch, only to feel him staring at her.

"He has let many go to prison, unfortunately," Lucius murmured. "Narcissa fears he will do nothing for me if I am arrested. She doesn't sleep, Bellatrix. She barely eats… She's constantly worried about our family ending if the Ministry gets enough to arrest me."

"Ridiculous," Bella insisted. "You're in the inner circle. Don't you tell her the position you have in his ranks?"

"I try, but-"

"I suppose she'll think you're trying to coddle her," Bellatrix mused, dabbing the corners of her mouth before setting her napkin down. "I will deal with this."

And here Narcissa thought she was going to fix Bellatrix on that fine Sunday afternoon. Ha! No, it was clear to her that her sister needed to be sorted before they even considered discussing her issues, if one could call them that.

With her lengthy, but light, dress in her hands, Bellatrix hurried out of the dining hall in search for her sister. When she heard some voices in the entrance foyer, she turned directly there. Even if the Malfoy household suddenly had visitors, Bellatrix was more than happy to send them away to discuss this recent misfortune with her sister. After all, that's all it was – a misfortune. Lucius would buy his way out of this, or use his aristocratic charm to win the hearts of all those against him. In the meantime, his lovely wife ought not to worry. It distressed Bellatrix somewhat to know that her sister had stopped eating. This wasn't something serious enough to warrant self-harm.

As she came around the corner, Bellatrix stopped dead in her tracks, a breath hitched in her throat. Near the main entrance, she spotted her sister and the Dark Lord, who stood far too close to the blonde for Bella's liking. She felt her eyes narrowing by the way he cupped her sister's chin, though to Narcissa's credit, she stood remarkably still, her arms limp at her side. Bellatrix stared for a moment, feeling like she was intruding on some intimate moments, and her insides burned. Was this why he hadn't come to see her? Because he found companionship in someone a little prettier?

Unwilling to let her lover be taken from her, Bellatrix stepped out of the shadows, her shoulders back, her head held high, and smiled brilliantly when he spied her over Narcissa's shoulder.

"My lord," she greeted as he released her sister. "What a lovely surprise this is! Would you care to join my sister and I for lunch?"

She linked arms with Narcissa, patting the younger woman's cold hand as she shot her something of a dangerous grin.

"I am actually here to see the Master of the house," he purred, "but perhaps another time."

"He's in the dining hall," Narcissa replied meekly, her eyes cast down. "If you would like to wait in the first floor study, I can fetch him for you."

"Always the courteous hostess, Mrs. Malfoy," the Dark Lord mused, giving the women a quick smirk before he vanished into the confines of the manor. Narcissa tried to turn away, but Bellatrix held her in place, a jealousy she had never felt consuming her.

"Why was he touching you?"

"You'll have to ask him," her sister replied stiffly. "It was unwelcome, at best."

She looked at her younger sister, who met her gaze, and Bellatrix decided that there was some semblance of the truth in her answer. Her grip loosened, and Narcissa moved away, back in the direction of the dining hall. However, before she too disappeared into the household, she turned back and gave Bellatrix a hard look from across the hall.

"Come along, Bella," she ordered, an evenness returning to her tone. "He wishes to see Lucius."

"I'll keep him company until your husband is finished wiping baby food off his shirt-"

"Bella," Narcissa called as she started to walk in the direction of the staircase that the Dark Lord had taken. "Please don't bother him. Come with me."

"I think I'm perfectly capable of making my own decisions," Bella snapped irritably. This was the first time she had seen the Dark Lord in an informal setting in what felt like years, and she wasn't about to let anyone spoil it for her. However, her sister called her name again, and when Bellatrix glared at her, she saw the woman seemed quite distressed about the whole situations. Her cheeks were flushed and she wrung her hands together as if they needed to be dried. She cast a look back at the stairs, and then sighed noisily. If she couldn't see him now, she would see him when he finished his business with Lucius. It was only a matter of time before she was back at his side.

She rolled her eyes, "Fine."

Moments later, she followed Narcissa back into the dining hall, her arms folded across her chest. She then took a seat back in her original chair as Lucius rose and went to her sister's side, glanced back at Bellatrix, and then left them alone. Draco seemed to be finished with his pieces of bread and moved onto slightly messier material, including some potato salad that he had smeared all over his face. Narcissa sat down beside him quietly and began wiping his mouth, something he seemed greatly opposed to. After the boy finished fussing, Narcissa returned to her plate, pushing her food around in silence.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?" she asked, arching a blonde eyebrow with her eyes remaining downcast.

"About the Ministry and the inquisition. I could have helped."

"I don't want your help," the woman remarked frankly, finally looking up at her. "I don't want anyone who I love trying to fix this because then they'll be at your door too."

"Stop being melodramatic, Cissy," Bellatrix moaned, throwing an exasperated look her way. "I mean, _really_. Your husband, as much as I think he's a bit useless sometimes, actually has a good position with the Dark Lord. He's not about to let him get arrested, is he?"

Narcissa turned away and spooned a few potato bits into Draco's mouth, her lips in a thin line, and she shrugged, "I don't presume to know what _he_ does and what he will not do."

She stared at her sister for a moment, and then shook her head, "You should have more faith in him."

"Don't tell me how I should feel about him," Narcissa snapped. "Don't you dare, Bellatrix. I won't tell you how I think _you_ should feel about him, so don't."

Her nostrils flared indignantly, "And how should I feel about him?"

"I'm not doing this with you."

"Doing what?"

"Telling you who to love and who you shouldn't," Narcissa told her. "You're right. You're a grown woman, and you make your own decisions. You don't need my opinion just as much I don't want you sorting out our Ministry issues."

"Fine," Bellatrix hissed. She had had enough of this. When she left her home this morning, she had no idea this day would turn so hostile with the one person she rarely ever had issues with. She pushed away from the table, "Though, I will say, you should start eating again. You're starting to look dreadfully ill… Soon I suspect no one will want to touch you, whether you find it unwelcome or not."

As she stormed out of the dining hall for the second time in less than a half an hour, she heard Draco start to fuss again. Although the Dark Lord had arrived to discuss something with Lucius, he wasn't quite the favourite that Severus Snape was. Therefore, she ought to have no problem joining in on the meeting. Perhaps she could even swing it so that Lucius was kicked out and she and the Dark Lord could have a few moments of private.

Unfortunately, her daydreams were dashed when she spotted a figure moving quickly toward the main entrance as she entered.

"My lord," she called, making him pause. "You're leaving so soon?"

He looked back at her, a decidedly neutral expression on his face, and then glanced down at his wristwatch, "I am a very busy man, Bella."

"Of course," she whispered, hurrying toward him, "I don't mean to keep you. It's just… It's been so long since I've seen you."

"We have seen one another at meetings-"

"Alone, I mean," she clarified, stopping in front of him. She licked her lips as he looked down at her, and then tentatively touched his arm, "Can't you stay a little while longer?"

"I have things to do," he told her shortly, making her retract her hand. "My life _does not_ revolve around bedding you, believe it or not."

Her jaw dropped a little, but she quickly shut it, shaking her head and swallowing thickly, "I know. I… I miss you. That's all I wanted to say."

"Noted," he said dismissively.

Without another word, he gave her a nod, and then turned around the door. She stood silently in his wake, hugging herself and longing for him to give her something... anything to show that nothing had truly changed between them. It was then that he paused with his hand on the doorknob and turned back to her. She tried to say something more, but he bore down on her so quickly that she gasped, his lips to hers. It was so incredibly brief and with such force that she stumbled back.

With a blink it was over, and he carried on out the door as though nothing had happened.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Baahhh I don't like writing Bella and Cissy fighting. They are kind of my favourites, but Bella can be a liiiittle sensitive, and clearly mean. This muse hit me today while listening to some music, and I had to write it before it left. **

**I'm going to be starting a Narcissa companion fiction to this series in the very near future. It will start at the same time as **_**Lovers in a Dangerous Time**_** did, and will carry on to match this one, and the (estimated) two more stories I have planned after this one. So. I'm set for a long time in this universe and with these characters. HURRAY! **

**So if you're interested in the tension between Narcissa and Voldemort, you can check out the series… whenever it gets written (hopefully soon!). Though, I personally think he lacks boundaries, and will do anything to make someone uncomfortable when he senses weakness. Let's go with that. **

**Much love to all the reviewers and readers!**


	15. An understanding

Her kiss with the Dark Lord had soothed Bella's concerns for a few days. The agitation had disappeared, and she was remarkably civil to everyone in the house. Rodolphus marveled in the change, but she was sure he wouldn't question it. After all, what idiot would ask why she was being so lovely? He would be smart to enjoy it, because as the days ticked by, Bella's good mood would become more and more strained. However, for now, she smiled more, treated the house elves better, and permitted her husband to wrap an arm around her waist when they spent the day in bed. It was a rare moment, but she actually enjoyed her time with Rodolphus. Seeing her lover had put her in such a good mood that she was willing to spend much more time with her husband than usual. They had a lovely dinner together, followed by dessert and foreplay, a little knife-work on Bella's behalf, and then a night of shagging. The following day was spent half-lounging and half-chatting as the house elves served them their meals. There were a few instances where Rodolphus tried to moan about them not doing this often enough, but he changed the subject when Bella's expression frosted over.

The only thing that dampened her days following the kiss was her lingering feelings of guilt regarding Narcissa. They hadn't spoken since she left in a huff, her insults stinging her sister as she went. She hadn't meant them completely, though a part of her wanted Narcissa to know that any sort of physical affection between the blonde and her lover was completely prohibited. Naturally, her sister was so in love with her husband, but she was also a fetching woman that was soon to be pleasing to any man's eye. If her lover had a wandering appetite for women – why wouldn't he? – then her sister was probably the next best after Bellatrix. However, the two had never fought like this before. Mind you, it wasn't necessarily a fight, but she hadn't ever left her sister and gone this long without smoothing over their issues. It felt as though there was some hole in her, some disconnect from a part of her life, and it was uncomfortable. However, she wasn't about to go sort things out. Narcissa made the mistake of telling Bellatrix that she so obviously disapproved of her feelings for the Dark Lord. If they wanted to sort themselves out, Narcissa would have to apologize first.

"I think I need to do something else other than lay like this," Rodolphus sighed, grazing his fingers along the curve of her hip. "How about another round?"

"Normally I would say no," Bella murmured, fiddling with a clump of her hair, "but that would be because I have something better to do… but today I just can't have another go."

"Are pigs flying?" her husband laughed, giving her a sharp pinch, "I never thought I'd live to see the day!"

"Fuck off," she grumbled, inching toward her bedside table and rummaging through the drawer. She fumbled around blindly until she found her carton of cigarettes, and then rolled back over, "Want a smoke?"

"I think I might try to quit," he replied as she lit up. "It's not good for you, you know?"

"Lots of things are bad for you," she purred, inhaling deeply. "We're bad for each other, and yet here we are."

"I'm sure I don't rot your organs, Bella."

"I bet I rot your heart," she cooed at him, shooting him a wink as she continued to enjoy her cigarette, sighing happily. He rolled over to face her, resting on his arm. For some time he watched her, almost to the point where she felt uncomfortable, and finally she blew a mouthful of smoke in face, making him cough.

"You know, despite how cruel you are to me, you're the one for me."

Bellatrix sighed, almost wanting to shrug off the notion, but she resisted the urge. Perhaps this day made him sentimental, but it had almost no impact on her. The feelings she had for Rodolphus hadn't lessened or grown, and she still felt remarkably neutral over the whole thing. However, she certainly wasn't about to spoil his mood after such a pleasant day by saying something inexplicitly horrible.

"You are a decent husband," she managed. "Out of everyone out there, I think I've ended up with someone just right for me."

"How nice of you, darling."

"Oh, for goodness sake," she snapped, flicking the bud of her cigarette onto the floor. "You know how I feel about you! I don't think it's necessary to say."

"It would make things a little better around here if you did."

"Nonsense," Bella snorted, rolling her eyes a little. "If I gave you my honest and true feelings, you'd see nothing would change."

"And what are your honest and true feelings?" he asked, stretching his lean, naked body a little, "You know mine… I think it's only fair."

"Haven't you deduced them already?"

"Not exactly," he replied. "You're a difficult woman to read."

"I think I've been obvious so far."

"Bellatrix…"

"All right, fine," she spat, sitting up and folding her arms across her bare breasts. "You really want to know?"

"_Yes_!"

"Fine," Bella snapped. "I think we make an acceptable Pureblood marriage. We are usually fairly civil, which is more than I can say for some. You're attractive to me, both physically and in personality. I love you in a specific way, but certainly not in the way you can ever hope for."

He sat in silence for some time, apparently taking everything in. She wasn't anxious over his answer. He wanted to know the truth, and finally she had given him something that was pretty close to exactly how she felt. She was never going to love him the way she loved the Dark Lord, but whenever they had a good stretch in their marriage, she did have some sort of affection for him.

"I'll take it."

"What?"

"I'll take that," Rodolphus clarified. "I'll take whatever you give me, Bellatrix."

She studied him for a moment, "Really?"

"I mean, I certainly didn't expect to have a marriage like… this going into it," he told her. "I thought eventually we would love each other like a happy couple."

"We can be happy without the stereotypical love," Bellatrix argued as she grabbed a second cigarette. "I want a partner. I want someone I can come home to."

"If he would let you come home to him, would you?"

She stiffened, but after she lit her cigarette, she was relieved to notice he didn't seem irritated or accusatory in anyway. Instead, he simply stared up at her curiously, as though they were discussing the events of their day. Like a normal couple. She ran a hand through her hair.

"I don't know how to answer that," she finally forced out. "He wouldn't… He doesn't want a housewife."

"Well, that's a relief."

She inhaled deeply, and then blew out a mouthful of smoke, "You and I are a companionship. I… I like that."

It was a revelation; a calm, level-headed revelation that Bellatrix hadn't had with her husband in quite some time. She looked over at him, and much to her surprise, he smiled.

"So… I'm a friend?"

"A friend I fuck," Bellatrix clarified. Suddenly, she felt as if a giant weight had been lifted. "I do love you, Rodolphus."

"I know," he insisted, "but it's nice to hear every so often."

"I can only hope you aren't completely delusional about us," she said suddenly. "Stop trying to make it change."

"I will," Rodolphus told her. "Now that I know, I… I'm staying at your pace. If we can stay like this… civil, together, and relatively happy, I'll be happy."

"Promise?"

"Of course."

She finished her cigarette and tossed the remains on the floor again. There was this wonderful calm in the air, something she hadn't expected at the end of this day. It always felt like once they made a little progress, something happened, and they would go two steps backward. However, this felt like a hundred steps forward, and Bellatrix felt a wonderful feeling of serenity when she looked at him.

Pursing her lips a little, Bella leaned forward, intent on kissing him. However, she changed her mind at the last second. Instead, she opted for resting her head on his chest, fingers splayed across his skin. He, on the other hand, placed his hands behind his head, eyes shut, breathing even. They relaxed together, and it was calm for quite some time after.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**I know it's really short. When I started writing this, this wasn't how the chapter was supposed to go. I've decided to push what I originally had to the next chapter, so it'll still come back. But as I was writing, I found myself liking the fact that Bella and Rod finally set up some sort of guidelines for their relationship. A companionship is how I've always seen them, and I think she's a little too sexual to not have her needs met. **


	16. Family Sickness

Things were finally going right in her marriage. Now that Bellatrix and Rodolphus had come to some sort of agreement – finally – about what their marriage ought to be, the feeling in the house had changed drastically. There were no more fights. Even if Bellatrix tried to provoke her husband, she found it was challenged with playful banter, which diffused the situation rather than exacerbating it. For some reason, he seemed to fall right into place after their discussion, and he hadn't done much to overstep his boundaries. They had had one meeting with the Dark Lord as a group recently, and when they finished, he didn't hover around her or whine for her to leave. Instead, Rodolphus simply departed with the rest of them and Bella remained behind, unhindered as she approached the Dark Lord on her own.

Her Master seemed exhausted. His speeches lacked the enthusiasm they normally had, and she felt as though his energy was off. She pursued him all the same, crooning and talking sweetly until he relented just enough to let her in. However, no matter how hard she worked to satisfy the Dark Lord, that night he seemed distant. There was no mirth in his eyes whenever he taunted her about something, and they lacked a certain light that normally made him charming. It concerned her. She wondered, briefly, if her lover might be sick. However, when she posed the question to him, he flew into a violent rage, blasting tombstones and shouting at her for insolence. She left at his request, disappearing into the dark night without another word. When she arrived home, she crumpled in despair, horrified at the thought of her lover falling ill to something.

He was so strong, so powerful… Someone must have poisoned him. His lethargy and moods could only be explained by an outsider infiltrating. There must have been a traitor among the ranks. She knew she had offended him terribly by asking about his sickness, and it must have been because it wasn't by his own doing. That's what he must have been using Snape for! The slimy man was a fly on the wall that no one cared to pay attention to; if anyone was going to root out a traitor discretely, it was Severus Snape.

She gathered herself up from the mess she had fallen into. Weeping would do nothing for the Dark Lord, and she knew that only action would be to his benefit. Bellatrix kicked off her heels, flinging them arbitrarily toward the wall near the shoe rank, and dumped her Death Eater's cloak on a house elf as she strolled toward the kitchen. She could hear Rodolphus clanking about, and she assumed he was picking at the leftovers from yesterday, as they hadn't arranged for the elves to make them anything else while they were at their meeting.

As she suspected, Bellatrix found her husband shoveling some sort of creamy pasta into his mouth, two glasses of wine set out in front of him.

"Expecting company?" she remarked, arching an eyebrow at him when he looked up, noodles hanging from his mouth. "Attractive…"

"I figured you wouldn't be long," he stated once he swallowed his mouthful, pushing out a nearby chair with his foot. She settled down and began filling both glasses, pleased that he had picked one of her favourites to spoil her with. "He wasn't exactly in the mood for company, was he?"

"How could you tell?" she snapped sarcastically, clutching the wine bottle as her eyes narrowed. "Something's wrong with him… He's not his usual self today."

"He just seems preoccupied," Rodolphus insisted, twirling the stringy noodles into his fork. "I wouldn't be too concerned."

"How could I not be concerned?" Bella demanded, rolling her eyes as she took a gulp of wine. "He shouted at me… He was really quite horrible."

She watched her husband continue to eat his cold pasta a little while longer, and he finally looked up at her, chewing thoughtfully.

"Well," he managed, "did you deserve to be yelled at?"

Her nostrils flared as her eyes widened angrily, and her husband quickly added, "In his eyes… Did you deserve to be yelled at in his eyes? You know he always has his reasons for everything, Bellatrix."

"I… I asked if he was sick," she stated with a shrug, "but I realize now why that might have upset him."

"You think?"

"He's just so… different," she moaned, watching Rodolphus down his entire glass of wine. "Doesn't it concern you?"

"I don't presume to be concerned for him… Unless we see something physically wrong, I think we all ought to let him do whatever he pleases," Rodolphus argued. "To me, he seems distracted, but he's been that way for months now… Most of this year, in fact. It's nothing new now."

"Of course it's new!" Bellatrix snapped, rolling her eyes at him. "He shouldn't be like this… He isn't like this! I wish he would tell me what is troubling him… I can't understand what Snape provides him that I do not."

"Bella," her husband sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "If you've asked and he won't tell you, you just need to let it go. We'll have everything sorted out in time, and you can… go back to normal with him."

She folded her arms across her chest sourly, annoyed that Rodolphus hadn't taken her side. It must have been obvious that despite her intimate relationship with the Dark Lord, Bellatrix was his favourite Death Eater. Everyone had to see it, and it must have been strange – or enjoyable – to see the man turn to Snape for something and leave his right hand in darkness.

"Maybe I should visit when he's cooled down-"

"Don't go unless he's invited you," Rodolphus ordered sharply. "If he's irritated with you now, he won't take your usual boldness in good humour. Leave him be until he calls for you." He paused, "You know he will."

She pursed her lips, and then relaxed back into the wooden chair, her back muscles tensing against the solid surface. Her dark eyes flickered up at her husband, and she noticed he was staring pointedly at his food now, as though there was something distasteful in his mouth. She should have cared about the distress she put him through whenever they discussed her special, unique relationship with the Dark Lord, but after he had accepted it; she no longer cared to spare any of his feelings. He couldn't feign ignorance anymore, so she couldn't bother to sugar-coat anything. If he wanted to partake in conversations about their master, he ought to know where they were bound to lead.

"He's so very cross with me…" Bellatrix sighed, cocking her head to the side as she gazed at her wine glass. "But I cannot simply let him suffer alone."

"We are all concerned for our Lord's well-being, of course," Rodolphus reiterated carefully, "but as I said, it's best that you let him come to you in his own time. Men are proud… Most of us to a fault-"

"He has a right to be proud," she sneered, her temper flaring a little. "He has a right to everything he does!"

"So don't question it," Rodolphus reasoned, shaking his head at her. "It'll only get you into trouble… I couldn't stand to see him make you suffer."

"I would gladly suffer for him."

"Bella, enough," he said finally, returning to his food in a snit. "If you aren't going to humour me, I'm not going to talk to you."

"Fine," she sighed, rolling her eyes a little as she clutched her wine glass close, sipping every so often.

She sunk deep into thought as the room went silent, thinking of ways she could probe her Dark Lord without him realizing it. She didn't dare assume to be brighter or cleverer than him, but there were ways in which women could goad men into sharing things they wished to keep hidden. Now, she only needed to find a way that wouldn't upset him, or insult him a second time. She pursed her plump lips; with his mind elsewhere, the Dark Lord seemed to have very little interest in any physical intimacy, but he still enjoyed speaking, lecturing. Perhaps he could give her a lesson in some area where she might be lacking… Yes, that always warmed him up.

Bellatrix smirked a little, and then flinched out of thought when a loud 'crack' permeated the peaceful dining room. She glared over at the source of the sound, and her nose wrinkled when she spotted Narcissa's house elf, Dobby, standing anxiously behind her chair.

"What?" Rodolphus snapped, "We're in the middle of dinner!"

"Dobby has been sent to collect the Mistress' sister," the creature squeaked. "Something terrible has happened to the Master, and she begs of her sister to come at once."

"What's wrong, has he got a tangle?" Bellatrix snorted, downing the rest of her wine. "Your Mistress hasn't spoken to be in nearly a fortnight… Why should I drop everything and come running to her when she asks?"

"Dobby serves Lady Lestrange's sister, and she is family… You are family, so the Mistress believes you will come in desperate times," the elf explained slowly, his eyes cast downward.

"He speaks well," Rodolphus snorted. "Perhaps he ought to teach ours a lesson sometime."

"Dobby would be honoured-"

"He wasn't talking to you," Bellatrix snapped, pushing her chair out sharply and into the creature, who squeaked at the contact. "What's wrong with my sister's husband?"

"Attacked, the manor was attacked by men in masks," Dobby explained feebly. "Mistress did well protecting the littlest one, but there were too many men in masks-"

"Come along, Bella," Rodolphus urged, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her close. "Got your wand?"

"Yes."

"Good."

Bellatrix winced as she felt her husband's magic draw her away from their kitchen, squeezing her tighter and tighter until they appeared at the doorstep of her sister's manor. The doors seemed to have been blasted open, and Bellatrix hurried inside, her feet bare against the cool floors as she shouted for her sister.

Narcissa suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs, her hands red and her eyes wild. The moment she saw her, all thoughts of their argument, of her jealousy over the Dark Lord's physical touch, and her disdain for the blonde's lack of contact faded in an instant, and she raced up the main stairwell.

"Cissy," she whispered, clutching her sister's arms. "What's happened?"

"They were surely Death Eaters," her sister stammered, pulling away and wiping what appeared to be blood on her dress. "Lucius came home tonight after… after your meeting, and they came an hour later."

Rodolphus stepped around the women, "Where is he?"

"I-I got him into our bedroom and into bed, but I c-can't stop the bleeding," Narcissa whimpered. "I would have gone for help, but I couldn't leave Draco-"

"Hush now," Bellatrix urged as delicately as she could, watching as Rodolphus hurried down the hall and out of sight. "How do you know they were Death Eaters?"

"They called him by name," her sister murmured. "They were dressed like them… They seemed young though, inexperienced with wands."

Bellatrix ground her teeth together. Lucius Malfoy may not have been her favourite person, but he was family, and someone had attacked her if they dared to attack him. From the sounds of it, they were either young Death Eaters hoping to get an older, more favoured man out of the way, or they were part of that ridiculous Order attempting to divide their tight-knit group of loyal servants. Either way, she couldn't let that stand.

Her sister shook before her, staring down at her stained hands, and Bellatrix resisted the urge to investigate the damage that had been done to Lucius. Instead, she took Narcissa to a spare bathroom down the hall and sat her down on the toilet. It wasn't in her nature to fawn over anyone, but it was clear that her sister was in shock. Her skin was paler than usual, even recently, and she seemed unable to control her jitters. Bellatrix grabbed a nearby cloth and ran it under some cool water. She then went about dabbing her sister's face, pulling her hair aside to let it rest on the back of her neck.

"Draco," her sister muttered. "He saw. He saw everything, Bella."

"He isn't even making memories yet," she mused, rubbing Narcissa's shoulders. "Don't think about it."

"Can you check on him for me?"

She nodded and set the cloth in her sister's hands, urging her to start cleaning the blood off. With that sorted, she continued on to Draco's room, stopping only for a moment to poke her head into the master bedroom. Lucius and Rodolphus were gone, but she saw her sister's white sheets stained red, and she realized the attack had been more vicious than she expected. Her jaw clenched at the thought, and she had to force herself out and into Draco's room before she did something drastic – like follow up on every junior 'Death Eater' who thought they were important because they wore a mask.

Instead, she found Draco fast asleep in his crib, his round little cheeks tinted pink, no doubt from all the excitement of the evening. He only stirred when she tucked a thin blanket around him.

"Hush now," Bellatrix purred, stroking his hair. "Auntie Bellatrix is here… Everything will be right again." She smiled dangerously, and then whispered, "Auntie Bellatrix is going to murder a lot of people for your father, and she does it because she loves you and your mother. Never forget that, Draco… Never forget your family."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Bahhhh. Long time and no update, and then a short update. I apologize. I had finals, and then I moved, and it's all sort of just been up in the air. But I'm finally settling down, and hopefully back to a normal writing schedule soon!**

**I can't decide if I think Bella is a huge hypocrite for the way she's getting stuffy over family. She **_**hates**_** her family, and has been pissy with Narcissa ever since the "incident". However, it felt like something she would do/say. Her moods change every moment sometimes, and it's always interesting. Either way, someone is getting screwed over in a horrible way… **


End file.
